We Had Today
by churrosity
Summary: Two people. One day. A story of two best friends, told one June 24th at a time, as they grow together, grow apart and grow to love each other. (Human AU)
1. June 24, 1994

**Author's Note:** Hi readers! I'm Churrosity but you can call me Churro n_n. This is my first time posting any written work of mine on the internet, and to be honest, I am really terrified right now. I've never shown anyone my work, so I have never received any feedback... so I would really REALLY love for some critiques or comments so I know I'm doing okay (or if I'm not, then I can know what to improve on)! Thank you! Also, thank you for taking the time to click on this fic and reading this a/n! You're wonderful! c:

**About this story:** I was inspired to write this after reading One Day by David Nicholls. Just to summarize the book, it was a story that followed the lives of two best friends on one day a year. But for those that read the book, I'm only using the format of the book, so the story will be different, although there will be some things I will keep the same! This fic is a bit of a shot in the dark for me, so I apologize for any mistakes. I did research on the setting and time period and all, advice or tips on these would be very much valued!

**Characterization:** Spamano is my OTP of OTPs. I love them so, so much. I really hope I didn't butcher their beautiful relationship with this fic. FORGIVE ME! Ahhhhh D:

**Other notes:** Sorry about the inconsistent verb tenses. I'm trying to write in present tense, but for some parts, present doesn't work, so I keep switching between present and past and it's just a mess. :(

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia. Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Okay, here we go! Thanks for reading all that. Gah! Feedback (about anything!) would be extremely appreciated!

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"What do you think life will be like when you're … say …34?"

He laughs in reply - a beautiful laugh that makes Lovino's heart flutter.

"34? You're only 16! You shouldn't be worrying about what life will be like when you're 34!" He gives Lovino a playful nudge on the arm.

For the next few moments, the two are silent. As they lay side-by-side on their backs in the over-grown grass, gazing up at the night sky, they listen to the sound of the summer breeze whispering through the air, the gentle sound of ocean waves splashing against the coastline and the sound of each other's steady, rhythmic heartbeat.

Slowly and carefully, Lovino turns his head towards him. He doesn't want him to notice him staring. But who can blame him?

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. His eyes, which are peering admiringly at the twinkling stars, are of the most gorgeous colour Lovino has ever laid eyes on. They remind him of fresh limes sold at markets, the shinning emerald earrings his Nonna used to wear, or perhaps even that apple-scented dish detergent he has at home. Yet, none of those greens could compare to his eyes. They were just a brilliant, soft, soothing green – they just take Lovino's breath away.

Before he stares for too long, Lovino whips his head away, a blush already threatening to colour his cheeks.

He ponders to himself how he had ended up here, lying next to this boy, on this small grassy hill overlooking the ocean waves.

...

_Several hours before_

Shouts of "Congratulations!" and "Good Luck to you!" are repeated and repeated all around, like a chorus of noisy geese. Lovino walks past the happy, smiling faces, saying nothing to any of them, only thinking to himself, "I'll never have to see you people again."

"Lovino!"

He stops and turns toward the voice. It's Kiefer.

Today, Kiefer looks nothing short of his usual appearance. Atop his head sits his red beret, while his outlandish white hair is secured in two long braids. A small mole is visible underneath one of his two eerie violet eyes. But something is definitely out of place today. A wide grin graces his face.

"You look happy." Lovino comments.

Kiefer and Lovino could be called friends. Or maybe the better term would be two-loners-who-sometimes-associate-with-each-other . Kiefer was known as the eccentric art student, and Lovino was referred to as the short-tempered douche who hated everything but art, so they often hung out together. Lunch hour was spent together in the art room, where they chirped spitefully about everything: the teachers, the crappy school and the hooligans they called classmates. Not exactly the ideal friendship-making bonding time one would hope for. Nevertheless, Kiefer was the closest thing to a friend to Lovino, and possibly, it was the same the other way around.

"Well, yeah, you know," Kiefer splutters out. "There's a party that everyone's going to. Everyone's invited."

"Okay," Lovino says, nonchalant as ever.

"So do you want to go?"

"No."

Kiefer grabs Lovino's shoulders, and there is an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"No?! Come one, Lovino. It's a party. With everybody!"

"God, Kiefer, why would I want to go to a party with all of these losers?"

"Have some fun!"

"Fun," Lovino scoffs. "Yeah, watching these drunkards puke all over themselves is definitely my kind of fun."

"Come on, Lovino! It's graduation! You'll never see them again."

"Why does that matter to you?"

Kiefer hesitates for a moment. He takes a breath.

"Look, Lovi. I know we both talked about how much we hated this place, and these dumbasses. I wasn't lying when I said all of that. But, now I… I feel like I'm going miss all of this… everything… and everyone." He pauses. "Next year, I'm moving to Austria."

Lovino looks at him blankly. This is news to him.

"I'm studying art there. I've already applied to an arts college. My aunt lives there and all, so I've got a place to live. Anyway –" He quickly ends his spiel. "I'm just saying, that I'll never see all of you again. I'll never see you again, Lovino."

He actually sounds sad, Lovino thinks to himself. Admittedly, he feels a little blue himself. His one companion was about to leave his life for good. Farewell to the days of snide gossip and mutual hatred!

"So Lovi, please, go! It'll be the last time we ever hang out again."

Lovino stares back at him. He heaves a deep sigh and mutters, "Fine."

Kiefer's face stretches into an even wider grin.

...

At 11:48 pm, Lovino finds himself seated in a corner at the back of the small pub with a bottle of cheap champagne as his only company. He leans his head back into the musty couch as he takes a swig from the bottle, draining the remaining contents. His eyes take a quick sweep of the scene in front of him.

The party is beginning to wind down; there are probably only a quarter of drunken graduates left in the dimly lit pub than there were at the height of the celebration.

Unsurprisingly, the party was everything Lovino expected it to be: loud, obnoxious banter; numerous spilled drinks and sweaty teenage bodies pressed much too closely together.

At least no one ripped off their shirt and jumped on the tables. The pub was owned by one of the graduate's parents, and it was being used on the condition that everyone would act responsibly.

In the early stages of the party, Kiefer had sipped at a can of beer ("My first time drinking alcohol!") and engaged in light chatter with Lovino. He then proceeded to study each painting that lined the pub walls with great effort, and just as he was about to move onto the sixth painting, he clapped his hand to his mouth, ran to the bathroom and did not return for 20 minutes.

When Lovino went to check on him, there was no sign of Kiefer. He asked the bar manager if he had seen him.

"Boy with long white braids? Yeah, I saw him leave out the back door with his parent or something. Looked sick to his stomach."

So Lovino decided to sit in the corner and finish his bottle of champagne – he wasn't going to let that go to waste! After all, he wasn't in a rush to be anywhere; there was no one waiting for him to come home.

The small apartment on the corner of Bosorne Road and Queen Street used to be occupied by Lovino and his grandmother. Now, two years after her untimely death and many nights spent crying into his pillow, Lovino lived independently in that lonely apartment.

Except for a grandfather and a younger brother, Lovino had no other family. His parents both died in a fatal collision with another car when Lovino was still a blubbering diaper-wearing baby. For the early years of his childhood, Lovino and his brother Feliciano were raised by their grandparents.

One day, Grandpa Vargas returned home after midnight again, drunk as a skunk as he always was, and his grandmother finally snapped, filed a divorce, packed her bags and announced she was taking the grandchildren with her. But Grandpa Vargas fought tooth and nail to keep Feliciano with him in Italy; nothing could release his grandfather's unrelenting grip on his youngest grandson. So his grandmother took Lovino, "away from that _stronzo_!", and moved to Cornwall, England of all places.

While Lovino was less than pleased with her choice of residence, he loved living with his grandmother. His Nonna was loving, strong and she made the best _Insalata caprese. _Meanwhile, his grandfather was carefree, flirtatious and unreliable. But since the separation and death of his wife, he has been trying harder, and frequently keeps in touch with Lovino. For Lovino's graduation, he had sent a card apologizing for his absence, stating that he wouldn't be able to attend.

It is past midnight now. Lovino sets the empty bottle on the low table in front of him and lifts himself off the creaking couch. He makes his way toward the exit, weaving carefully between overly affectionate couples and retching boozers. After a boring and disappointing night, he's glad to finally head home. But at the same time, Lovino feels … excited. Tomorrow is officially the beginning of his new life! Or more accurately, today, right now.

He pushes the door open, steps out and immediately he collides with someone.

Irritated, he turns to face the jerk. Who the fuck stands right in front of a door?! He whips his head up to yell at the bastard, but the words stop in this throat as his glare meets a pair of very green eyes.

Lovino's mind stops for a moment.

He takes in the whole face and realizes quickly who it is. He shoots a glance behind him. Sure enough, the other two are here as well, standing a few yards away from them.

The Bad Touch Trio. Everyone knew them – even the teachers. They were the most bad-ass bad boys in the school. An unbreakable alliance of mischievous punks. Nothing but trouble. Their members included Gilbert Beilschmidt, the German albino self-proclaimed "awesome-sauce" of the group; Francis Bonnefoy, the amorous French flirt; and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, the new Spanish student that transferred into the school a year ago and had girls asking to have his babies before he could even utter a single "¡Hola!"

Lovino avoided the group at all costs, and probably only encountered them briefly once or twice in the past year, but here he was, face-to-face with one of its members.

Antonio observes the boy in front of him. A wild hair curl sticking up out of a head of soft, chestnut-coloured hair; stunning amber eyes that manage to shine in the lackluster light of the streetlamps, and to complete the look, an expression like a deer caught in headlights. He's seen him around school before. He's the art student that hangs around the art room all the time! What was his name again?

Antonio's eyes search the boy's face, as if it would reveal his name to him. He suddenly realizes that they've been staring at each other speechlessly for a good amount of time already. He quickly says something.

"Sorry about bumping into you!"

Lovino snaps out of his trance and blinks. He doesn't know what to say. He stares dumbly back at Antonio, who studies him with a small, amused smile.

He decides to talk some more.

"I don't think we've ever met before! I'm Antonio! Nice to meet you." He sticks out his hand.

Lovino stares at the hand offered to him. He is once again at a loss of words and capacity to think clearly. He blames it on the alcohol.

Antonio watches him stare at his hand like it is talking burrito with nine eyes, and he lets out a tiny laugh.

"You're so cute!" Antonio says.

This incites an immediate reaction. Lovino's eyes angrily flicker from the outstretched hand to Antonio's face and snarls at him, "No, I'm not! Fuck you!"

With his flaming red face contorted in both embarrassment and anger, Antonio cannot help but to burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at?!" Lovino's face becomes an even brighter shade of red.

"You're really funny!" Antonio says between chuckles, and then adds "You look like a tomato!"

Lovino feels something snap inside him, and he grabs the front of Antonio's shirt.

"You-! What did you say?!" he growls out. "Did you just say I look like a tomato?! Fuck you, I'm no tomato!"

Antonio wants to laugh even harder, but he restrains himself.

"Lo siento, lo siento!" Antonio raises his hands in apology. "Then what should I call you?"

"I'm Lovino Vargas, bastard," Lovino snarls.

"Okay! Lovino Vargas bastard!" Antonio cheerfully repeats.

"Fuck! No! You're the bastard!"

"No, I'm Antonio!"

Lovino hisses and lets go of Antonio's shirt, who smiles gleefully back at him.

Antonio sneaks a glance behind him and spots his two friends. Gilbert, drunk out of his mind, is slumped over the shoulders of Elizabeta, who is grumbling at his recklessness. Francis and student council president Arthur Kirkland are having something that looks like a couple's fight, though they are not in a relationship – they just like getting under each other's skin. Assured that his friends are taken care of, Antonio turns back to Lovino.

"Hey, Lovino. Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

"Huh?!"

"Do you want to go somewhere together?" Antonio says again, grinning.

"What?! Where?!"

"You'll see~"

Only a fool would agree to run off into the night with some stranger they just met to God-knows-where. Lovino was that fool.

Who knows what possessed him to let Antonio grab his arm and lead him down the dark streets while prancing like an overhyped idiot. Maybe it was that blinding grin. Or the thrill of the question "Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

Or those eyes … those hypnotizing green eyes. Fuck, no way! Lovino just blamed it on the alcohol.

...

"Here we are!"

Lovino rolls his eyes. "You wanted to take me to Cape Cornwall?"

"Yeah! It's beautiful here." Antonio's voice is filled with excitement.

Cape Cornwall was simply a small headland at the edge of the mainland, a grassy cliff that extended into the restless ocean.

"There's Land's End!" Antonio points in a general direction towards the rocky cliffs. "And over there is the Heinz Monument! Did you know it was named for that ketchup company?"

He sounds like a tour guide, Lovino chuckles to himself. He looks over at the Heinz Monument, which really is just a chimney sticking out of the grass.

On the topic of ketchup…

"I couldn't care less about that vinegary sugar shit," Lovino says. "But tomatoes are a whole other story. Tomatoes are the fucking best." Lovino quickly reminds, "But don't you dare call me a tomato again!"

Antonio laughs loudly. He had never met anyone who spoke with such serious passion about tomatoes.

"I love tomatoes, too!" Antonio responds.

"Is that right? That makes you a little better, bastard." Lovino says with a slight smirk on his lips.

They walk a little further down the cape. Lovino watches the waters churn and slosh against the cliff.

"Hey, you can shout anything you want!"

"Huh?" Lovino turns to Antonio.

"You know! Yell into the ocean! Whatever you want to say!"

Lovino likes the sound of that idea. After thinking momentarily of what to say, he runs to the edge, cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "SUCK MY BALLS, HUMPHREY DAVY SECONDARY SCHOOL! I'M FINALLY FREE!"

The message is swallowed up by the sound of the waves crashing.

"Wow, you really didn't like the school that much?" Antonio says.

"God, you wouldn't believe it." Lovino snickers a little. "This crap town, too. I'm going to get out of here as soon as I can."

"It's nice here," Antonio simply states, staring into the ocean.

"Come on, your turn." Lovino gives Antonio a poke on the arm.

"Okay," he perks up, and then shouts loudly, "GRACIAS MUCHOOOOS!"

"What was that for?"

Antonio shrugs. "I felt like saying it."

"Weirdo."

They settle on a spot on the cliff overlooking the frothing ocean waves. Antonio lies on his back and Lovino does the same.

They gaze up towards the twinkling lights together. After a long silence, Antonio sits up.

"I almost forgot! Do you need to get home soon?"

"Nope…" Lovino answers. "I live alone. I can come and go as I please."

"Oh, "Antonio stares at Lovino for a moment, and then lies back down. "Me too."

Curiosity fills Lovino's mind. He wants to ask him.

"Say… you're from Spain. So why did you decide to come to England?" Lovino says slowly.

"Oh! Well," Spain shifts himself so the back of his head is resting on his hands. "Ever since I was young, I have always wanted to travel the world and meet lots of people! And in order to do that, I would need to overcome the language barrier! I've already got Spanish, so I thought, alright, then I'll go to England to study English! And that's what I did."

Lovino smiles. He sounds like a child talking about his dream; he's so cheerful and optimistic about it.

"I've got a little bit of French and German, too. Francis and Gilbert have been teaching me."

Antonio turns his head toward Lovino. "And now you can teach me Italian, too!"

"Stupid," Lovino chuckles. "Who said I'll teach you Italian?"

"Haha! Come on, Lovino!"

"Alright, here's something. Vaffanculo, bastardo!"

Antonio laughs. "Be serious about this, Lovi!"

"Lovi? You're going to call me Lovi? Since when were you allowed to call me Lovi?" Lovino turns towards the laughing Spaniard.

"Either that or Lovinito!" Antonio grins.

"God, no,"

"Pick one! Or it's going to be tomato~"

"Oh, hell, you did not. Fine, then you'll be bastardo."

...

"Okay, then. How about next year? What will life be like for you next year?" Lovino suggests.

Antonio turns to Lovino, and then looks back up at the stars thoughtfully.

"Actually, even for next year, I have no idea." He admits.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah… I'm just going to let life happen. You know, _carpe diem_!"

Lovino rolls his eyes. "God, that's clichéd."

"Heh," Antonio chuckles lightly, then shifts his gaze to Lovino. "How about you?"

"Well, sure as hell, I'm getting out of this place. I've already applied to Camborne and Duchy, and some other places in Devon. I'm going to go into the arts - that's for certain."

"You like planning out your future, huh?"

"It's not like I particularly_ like_ it or something…" Lovino says. "It's just, I think of the future like a blank canvas. You can be anything! You can do everything you have always wanted to do! It's your chance to paint a beautiful life for yourself! But if you want the painting to turn out the way you want, you have to plan it properly."

Antonio smiles. "But sometimes, things don't go as planned, and a painting can still turn out beautifully."

The truth of his words brings a small smile to Lovino's face.

"Just like life," Antonio adds.

"Yeah… just like life." Lovino agrees.

"Like today."

Lovino looks over at Antonio, who is smiling back at him.

"I don't know how everything happened this way, but I'm really glad I met you, Lovino."

Green eyes stare into amber eyes, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Lovino tells him the most honest and genuine thing that comes to his mind:

"I'm glad I met you, too, bastard."

* * *

**Translations:** (in case anyone needs it!)

*I just got these from the internet, so if they need any fixing, it'd be wonderful if you could point it out n_n

Nonna – grandmother

Stronzo – asshole

Lo siento – sorry

Gracias muchos – thank you very much

Vaffanculo, bastardo – fuck you, bastard


	2. June 24, 1995

**Author Note:** Hi readers! Wow wow wow, thanks for the feedback! You guys are super! Your reviews totally brightened up my day! They're really helpful and encouraging and I'm so grateful for them! Thank you!

**Burlesque Romantique:** Gosh, thanks for your review! I'm really happy to hear that you found it okay! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story, too! :D

**kyouno-aru: **Yeah, you got it right! I love him! Can't wait till he gets animated! Thanks for your lovely review! (:

**Note about the last chapter: **Oh yeah, I think you guys probably noticed, but I messed up last chapter's formatting. So if the story jumped around a lot, it's because the paragraph break things (which I put as a series of underscores) did not show up because that's the way the FanFiction formats things, right. Must have been weird reading it without the breaks I intended. I fixed it now, but gosh, I'm really sorry for that. It just shows how much of a noob I am. Sighs.

**Fic-related news:** New chapters will be up every **Monday** and **Friday**! So check on those days for the newest chapter. This is going to be a multi-chapter story, but it won't be too long, so I hope you stick around till the end! (:

I'm probably spending more time on research than actual writing! That's not exactly bad; I'm learning a lot! But why did I pick to write about things I really have no knowledge of at all? D:

I think half of my research time was spent on looking for Italian insults. Yeah, it took me a while to find some to use… simply because so many of them sounded so vulgar it made me flinch. Oh, Italians and their profanity!

Also, Grandpa Rome is not referencing the 2005 movie of the same title because that would be chronologically/historically incorrect. I just couldn't think of a synonymous phrase! So I just snuck it in there, haha.

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Once again, all feedback is greatly appreciated!

* * *

_Hey citrullo! _

_How's the weather in España? I actually wish I was there too. NOT BECAUSE I MISS YOU, IDIOT, STOP SMILING. It's because the weather here sucks! (No surprise, though.) It has been raining for a whole week now. I swear, it's raining harder now in June than it did for the whole year. Damn Cornwall weather! When can I move out of this goddamn place?! I just want to get the fuck out of here! _

_Life here is terrible, as always, even though it's summer. Well, it's not much of a summer if it's raining 24/7 anyway. I just wish I could go on vacation! Not everyone is as fortunate as you, to have a home to go to in the summer. No, I'm not going to Italy to see the old man and little brat. In fact, they came here a few days ago to visit me here, and let me tell you what sort of hell that was._

_My grandpa is everything I remembered him to be. He's still a heavy drinker and he looks so worn down like he hasn't been taking care of himself. Bet he's staying out late and gambling and shit again. Oh, and he's still a huge fucking flirt. He even flirted with my landlady, and she flirted back (it was horrifying) and then the next day, she giggled to me, "Lovino, I never knew you had such a handsome grandfather!" Lord, save me from these idiots! And did I mention my brother? My irresistible culo of a brother? God, he is even more annoying than you! "Lovi this!" "Lovi that!" "Pasta!" "Ve!" VE?" "VEEEE!" Okay, you get the point? He's a fucking lunatic. But that's expected, seeing he was raised by one. I have never seen anyone so brain dead. Well, maybe you. _

_Anyway, I'm having a shitty time here. Good thing the two idiots are leaving next week. I'm going to be so glad once they're gone. I hope seeing your parents again was better than my fucking happy family reunion. _

_Lovino _

_P.S. Don't forget that when you get back in July, you owe me big time! Your little misadventure wasted a good four hours of my life that I'll never get back. Be prepared for the worst!_

Antonio chuckles to himself as he finishes reading the letter. He reads the letter again, and then finally puts it down. He smiles at himself.

He loved Lovino's letters. They never failed to make him laugh, but better yet, reading the angry rants made him feel like he was actually talking with Lovino.

Antonio pulls out a blank sheet of paper and a pen from his shoulder bag. He stares down at the paper and begins to write.

_Dear Lovinito_

No, he'll get mad… but … Oh well! He won't mind!

_Thank you for your letter!_

Okay, good start. What else to say…

Antonio looks around him for inspiration.

The warm, Spanish sun is streaming through the many windows of the small café Antonio is sitting in. The place is relaxing and calm, not to mention it served the best coffee in town. Besides Antonio, only three other people are there – one reading a novel and the other two engaging in quiet conversation.

He twirls the pen in his hand.

He scratches his head.

He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his cinnamon latte.

He puts it back down.

He reads the words on the paper.

He reads them again.

He groans.

Writing is hard.

Antonio wants to tell Lovino everything on his mind, like how he wishes Lovino could see their huge tomato garden. He'd be overjoyed! Or how much he wants to be by Lovino's side while he was feeling so down. But how does he put his feelings down on the paper? The written word could not possibly convey what he wanted to say.

Well, I could try… Antonio thinks. He tries writing.

_Life is great here, but I wish you were here!_

No, it sounds too bland… He scratches it out.

_If only I could cheer you up, Lovino._

No no… go for something simple, just think simple.

_I miss you._

He stares at the words.

It's what he wants to say. It sounds right in his head, but why does it seem so wrong on the paper?

His thoughts are interrupted by the scraping of chairs on the floor. He looks up to see the other customers getting up to leave.

"Are you closing?" Antonio asks the shop owner.

"Yup. We close early on Saturdays."

Antonio gathers Lovino's letter and his paper into his bag. Maybe he'll think of something to write once he returns home. He thanks the owner and exits the little café into the warm, evening air.

He remembers the sky was of the same colour when he had stepped out that night. A night where he found himself lost after wandering a little too far…

...

"It was nice seeing you again! Thanks for having dinner with me."  
"Yeah, definitely! I'll see you around."  
"You need a ride home?"  
"Nope, I'm just going to take the cab."  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah, no worries!"

...

While sitting in a cab looking out at unfamiliar buildings, he begins to regret his words.

"Um... Where are we right now?" He asks the taxi driver.  
"Around West End at Penryn."  
"Huh?! Wait, how'd we get here?!"  
"Wasn't your address on Trevenson Street?"  
"Yeah, it's that way! Could we just turn back…?"

He's all the way in West End? The round trip would cost the rest of the money in his pocket. He looks at the taxi metre. Oh shoot, it's already past three quarters of his remaining money!

"Hold on, could I get off here?"

He pays the cab driver 21.14, with only 1.79 left in his wallet.

What should he do? He's stuck in the middle of an unknown street in an unfamiliar part of town with only a pocketful of loose change. He could walk home but he is probably at least several kilometres away from his apartment. And, _man, it's getting late, too_, he thinks as he glances quickly at his watch, which is reading 10:52.

He walks down the dark, empty street, contemplating what he should do. He doesn't know if he's feeling more disorientated than he is scared.

Then he spots it. A shining lighthouse in this dark sea of confusion! A beacon of light! The end of the tunnel!

He runs towards the red telephone box. What luck! You rarely see these around now, with mobile phones becoming more and more popular. He reminds himself to buy one soon, one of these days. They were certainly useful (but so expensive!), so he really needed to get one, especially for situations like this one.

Antonio steps into the box and punches in the phone number of the first person he thinks of.

_Please pick up, please pick up, don't be asleep, don't be sleeping… If you're sleeping, I'm sorry …But please pick up!_

He glances at his watch again. 11:09.

_He doesn't sleep this early… Come on, please answer –_

"Hello?" comes the gruff voice.

"Lovi!"

"What the hell, Antonio? Do you know what time it is?!"

"Sorry," Antonio quickly apologizes. Lovino doesn't sound like he was sleeping. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I wasn't sleeping yet. But why are you calling so late?"

"Okay, well, I'm kind of lost. When the taxi driver dropped me off, I was in West End."

"What the fuck? What are you doing in West End?!"

"I don't know! He was just driving in the wrong direction, and I had to get off, and now I don't have enough money to call another cab – "

A rapid beeping noise begins to sound through the phone.

"This call requires a coin deposit – "

"Already?! Crap, I'm running out – "

"Please hang up momentarily, then redial your call – "

"Antonio?!"

"Wha – hold on, Lovi," he squeezes the phone receiver between his ear and shoulder and rummages through his wallet for coins, and it spills out onto the floor of the phone booth.

"Oh, shoot!"

"Hey, bastard! You – "

" - by first depositing the local rate posted on the instruction card – "

"Hey – "

"Ah, Lovi – hello, hello? I – "

"Or, dial zero for the operator."

"What – "

And then he hears the dial tone.

Crap!

Antonio places the receiver back into its holder, and leans against the wall of the telephone box. He grumbles quietly to himself.

He drops to his knees and begins to pick up his scattered change. Even with squinted eyes, he cannot see all the coins in the darkness. He picks up all the ones he can see, and counts them. Two five pence coins and half a dozen coppers. Not even enough to make another call.

Now it really looks like he had no choice but to walk home.

He steps out of the phone booth and tries to remember the map of the city. If he was in West End, then he'll just need to keep walking east. But which way was east? He scans the buildings around him, looking for some landmarks, but finds none. Which way did the taxi drive from?

Huh. He doesn't remember at all.

He walks further down the street, away from the phone booth. He makes a left. This building looks kind of familiar.

_I'll just go with my instinct_, He thinks to himself. _My sense of direction can't be that bad!_

...

Once again, for the second time of the night, he is proven wrong.

Now he really doesn't know where he is. He reads the nearest street sign. Sea View Terrace. Where's that?! Oh god, he's completely lost.

He peeks at his watch again. 12:23. He's been wandering around for over an hour. Antonio begins to wonder if it was a better idea to stay put and wait till morning when he could ask someone for directions, or keep walking around like a lost, stray puppy. Or he could knock on a random door and ask to stay for the night. He really didn't like any of those ideas.

If only there was someone here that he could ask for help…

_Thud._

He hears a quiet sound coming from a distance.

It's not a car. It's steady, like a drum.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

It's getting louder.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. _

Shoes. It's the sound of heavy shoes running across the pavement. It's coming from behind that building, around the corner of the street.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

Someone's running.

Antonio feels a sudden mixture of hope and fear. He could ask this person for directions! But what if this was some gang member, looking to mug a hopeless fool like himself? After all, what kind of person runs around at 1 in the morning?

_Thud thud thud thud thud thud. _

Now, along with the sound of heavy footsteps, Antonio hears ragged panting.

_Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud. _

_It's coming from there,_ Antonio stares at the end of the street. Crap – should he run or –

A figure runs into the intersection and slows down, catching his breath. He turns his head left and right, as if he was chasing after someone. When he turns to look down the street Antonio is standing in, Antonio freezes.

_Oh no, he saw me. He's coming towards me – _

The figure is sprinting towards him like a madman, complete with awkward flailing arms and legs. Antonio begins to back away, scared for his life, but his shaking knees are wobbling so much, it's hard for him to move away.

The figure is coming closer, closer, closer, oh, god he's almost here, closing in at 15 metres now, and then he trips – trips and falls flat on his face with a smack.

Antonio watches this entire scene unfold before his eyes with his mouth gaping wide.

Normally, he would think that his first instinct would be to run now that his pursuer was down. But there was something so clumsy and graceless about this crazy midnight runner that made him want to check if he was okay.

Antonio cautiously walks a little closer, keeping his eyes glued to the motionless figure plopped on the pavement, and calls out, "Um… are you alright?"

The figure lifts his head off the ground and growls, "Bastard, does it look like I'm alright?! I'm fucking lying on the ground and my face hurts like fuck and this is all your fault!"

Lovino?!

Antonio jogs over as Lovino slowly picks himself off the ground and brushes off his clothes.

"Oh my god, it's you, Lovi!" Antonio happily grabs onto Lovino's arms. "What were you doing?!"

Lovino looks like he's about to explode. "What was I doing?! Looking for you, you nitwit! You think I like to spend my sleeping hours running around in the streets?!"

"Wait … you were looking for me?!"

"What?! Was I not supposed to?!"

"No, no – you didn't have to, I mean – I just – you really didn't have to do that - "

"Okay, yeah, I know, I just, kinda overreacted," Lovino huffs, fuming. "I just panicked after hearing your phone call. I even went next door to that creepy, old freak to beg him to use his car, goddamnit. Then, when I got to West End, I didn't see you anywhere, so I got out of the car and looked, and I ran around like an idiot, and then I fucking fell on my face, and shit, now I feel like crap!"

His chest is heaving heavily as he breathes in angrily.

Antonio knows it isn't the smartest thing to do, but he begins to laugh.

"You fucking jerk! Why are you laughing?!"

"Haha - It's just that – hahaha - it's so funny, haha,"

"Damn you! I hate you! Stop laughing! This is all because of you! This is all your fault and here you are laughing at me while my face hurts like hell."

"I'm sorry," Antonio's chuckles promptly recede. "Sorry about that, Lovi. Here, let me see."

He lifts Lovino's face up with his hands on both sides of his face. He examines the light scratches on his cheeks and his nose, now feeling extremely bad for causing so much trouble for Lovino. He notices the warmth and redness of his cheeks and wonders if he was also beginning to fever from running around.

Wait a second, or is this a blush?

Antonio swiftly becomes aware of the tension between them, the close proximity of their faces and the intimacy of their position and he promptly lets go.

"Ah, um, well, it's just a few scratches," Antonio quickly says, trying to restore the atmosphere between them. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah, I guess," Lovino says, his head turned away from Antonio as he tries desperately to slow his heartbeat down.

_What the hell are you getting nervous for? Calm down, you big dumbass, calm down!_

Lovino collects himself and then says in an annoyed mumble, "Well, are we just going to stand here like a bunch of losers, or are we going to go home?"

As the two walk back down the road to Lovino's borrowed car parked several blocks away. Lovino jabs a finger into Antonio's arm and mumbles, "You owe me big time for this."

...

Lovino stares at the bright red tomatoes on the postcard from Antonio. He flips it over and reads the message he has read a million times already.

_Hey Lovi!_

_These tomatoes reminded me of you, so I got you this postcard! Cuidate!_

_Antonio_

He sighs. He wishes the idiot wrote more. Or better yet, why couldn't he write him a letter?

"Hey fratello, who's that from?" Feliciano reaches for the postcard.

"Don't fucking touch it!" Lovino whips it away.

His brother whimpers pathetically. "You're so mean… why are you so protective of it? Oh, could it be… it's from your girlfriend?"

"Shut up! This isn't my girlfriend!"

"What's this? I heard 'girlfriend'. Lovi has a girlfriend?!" his grandfather pokes his head into the living room.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend, you old man!"

His grandfather shakes his head in disappointment. "Still? My my, Lovino, when I was your age, I think I already had about a dozen lovers."

"Well, unlike you, I have standards," Lovino scoffs.

His grandfather ignores the snarky remark and persists, "Lovino, you'll never find someone like this. Do you want to end up alone and depressed with no cute wife to take care of him? Why don't you go on some group dates? Maybe you'll find your dream girlfriend."

"Don't tell me what to do with my love life!" Lovino says, annoyed.

"What?! I just don't want my grandson to end up being a 40 year old virgin -"

"GOD, GRANDPA," Lovino hollers, his cheeks and ears flushed with colour. "WILL YOU STOP?!"

"What, Lovino, I'm just trying to help! If you don't listen to me, then you're never getting laid – "

"OkAY, THAT'S IT! I'M OUT OF HERE!"

Lovino storms out of the living room and locks himself in his room. He drops onto his bed and scrunches his eyes closed, while groaning lowly – oh, how he wishes his nosy grandfather and obnoxious brother was out of his apartment, and out of his life.

After years of living alone, Lovino thought he would enjoy the company of others. With no one to talk to all the time, wouldn't he jump at the opportunity to start a jolly conversation with anyone?

_Well, not with these people, anyway,_ Lovino thinks to himself. There really is only one person that he enjoys the company of, though he wouldn't ever admit it.

His bright smiling face comes to Lovino's mind.

Lovino feels his face grow warm, and he rolls onto his stomach and buries his face into his blankets.

_No, stupid, stupid, stupid, stop thinking about that dumb bastard._

But how could he? Every day, every minute, every second, Antonio was the only thing that was ever on Lovino's mind.

And it frightened him. Now that he was away, Lovino didn't want to do anything but to slowly count the days before he could see him again. How pathetic!

It was 22 days, by the way.

Oh god, Lovino wanted to kick himself. He was falling into some pit of dependence on the idiot. Or was he falling into… something else…?

No, no, he hurriedly shakes the thought away. He hated this feeling, whatever this feeling was.

No matter how much he refused to say it in his letters, he could not deny it: he missed the idiot.

* * *

**Translations:**

Citrullo - derived from cetriolo, meaning cucumber; used for dense idiots (IDK I picked it because it sounded cute)

Culo - ass (like … "He's such an ass!")

Cuidate! - Take care!

Fratello - Brother


	3. June 24, 1996

**Author Note:** Hi readers! Thank you for all the follows! I hope you guys are liking the story so far, and I hope you'll like the future chapters too! (:

**Boom Box Guy:** Aww! Thank you! Ahhh, I'm actually really happy that you think that! Thank you for your review! :D

**Fic notes:** Wow, Lovi swore a lot less in this chapter, which I am actually really grateful for. Ahaha.

I had major writer's block for this chapter. That's why it's late. Well... kind of late. I mean, I'm posting it now at 4 am on Saturday, but we can count it as … late Friday night? (when really, it is Saturday morning) Haha, I don't know.

The reason why I'm desperately sticking to a schedule is because I really want to finish this story before school starts, or at least before October. Otherwise, I will have to put it on hiatus, which I really, really don't want to. It's because I don't think I can juggle this fic and school at the same time, but you know what, we'll see what happens.

I'm having difficulties thinking of what to write for these chapters lately, so sorry if it's not up to par. Yeah, this chapter is not so great… just a bunch of wish-washy blabber. While writing this, I was wondering what the heck I was doing. The things in this chapter was seriously as spontaneous as ideas come. I honestly don't know. Well, it's kind of late, so it's no surprise I'm not thinking clearly. Hah. Okay, what am I talking about. Stop rambling.

Alright, enjoy the chapter! :D

* * *

"Ready?"

"Okay – one, two, three – "

"Lift!"

Together, the two hoist up the small, red couch.

"Hey, this isn't that heavy – oh crap!"

Antonio's hands nearly slip and drop the couch, but he quickly regains his balance.

"Watch it, loser! This was my grandma's favourite couch." Lovino barks.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll be more careful. Okay, one step at a time."

Lovino walks backwards onto the first step of the stairs, carrying one end of the couch, while Antonio held the other end.

They slowly ascend the stairs, carefully avoiding bumping into the walls at the sharp turns of the stairwell.

"Which floor are we bringing this to?"

"It's on the fifth floor."

"Aw geez," Antonio moans.

"Quit complaining,"

The pair finally climb the finally few steps, and they stop outside room 509. They carefully set down the couch on the dusty hallway floor. Lovino rustles through his pockets for his keys, and then he shoves it into the lock.

"Is your roommate home?"

"Probably," Lovino opens the door. "Hello? Toris, are you there?"

"Oh! Lovino!" a voice calls from somewhere inside. Shortly afterwards, a young male with shoulder-length brown hair and a friendly smile on his face appears from behind one of the walls.

This was Toris Laurinaitis, Lovino's new roommate. Lovino had seen his advertisement in the newspaper while hunting for a new home. Lovino wasn't so sure about having a roommate, but Toris' apartment that was up for rent was just at the most perfect location (only a ten minute walk from Bucks University, where Lovino would be attending in the fall), and had a more than reasonable price. The two met up to talk over coffee, and Lovino was relieved that Toris was actually a really _normal_ guy after finding out a bit more about him. Lovino had heard crazy rumours about roommates, like how some had a habit of leaving their nail clippings lying on the living room table, or how some insisted that roommates needed to help each other pop their pimples, or how some did not mind making friends with the rodents that resulted from lack of hygiene in the place. Yeah… Lovino had heard some crazy stuff.

Anyway… after chatting about the rent and all that other junk, the two happily accepted their new roomie-relationship.

…

"You're here! I was just about to head off to work." Toris says. "I'm sorry that I can't help you out with all this…"

"Oh, yeah, don't worry about, I've got someone," Lovino nods his head in the direction of Antonio, who perks up and thrusts his hand out eagerly at Toris.

"Hi, I'm Antonio!" He beams a bright smile at Toris. "Lovi's friend."

Toris smiles back, and shakes his hand.

"I'm Toris Laurinaitis. Nice to meet you!"

"Laurinaitis," Antonio outright laughs. "It sounds like a disease! Like laryngitis!"

Lovino nudges him sharply in the side with his elbow.

"You insensitive dim wad, why'd you say that?!"

"Haha, no, it's fine, I actually get that all the time…" Toris laughs, with a bit of sadness, and then coughs into his hand.

"Uh, well, anyway, I better get going. Oh! Before I go! How about having dinner together tonight? Like a celebratory dinner, for moving in!"

"Sure," Lovino replies. "That sounds good to me."

"Great! I get off work at seven, so I hope that's not too late."

"That's fine,"

"Alright! Oh, and Antonio, you can join us, too!"

"Really? Thanks! Oh, but … wait, at seven, I have to feed my dog," Antonio's face quickly changes from being delighted to conflicted.

Toris laughs a little, but then realizes Antonio was serious.

"Oh, u-uh…" he stutters, uncertain of what to make of this.

"He worships his dog. No joke." Lovino says wearily.

"No kidding, huh."

"No kidding."

Antonio rubs his head sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that. Maybe some other time?"

"Oh, for sure," Toris says. He looks at Antonio, and then Lovino, and then his watch. "Alright, well, time for me to step out. Good luck unpacking! I hope you don't run into any problems… Sorry again that I can't help you today."

"Yeah, no worries," Lovino assures him.

"Okay then, see you tonight," he finally says with a little wave, and heads on his way.

"See you tonight," Lovino echoes as he waves back.

After the sound of Toris' footsteps resonating through the stairwell is replaced with silence, Lovino turns to Antonio.

"Alright. Let's do this."

….

Truthfully, Lovino didn't have much to bring with him - just a few large boxes full of his belongings, a mattress and the couch. Toris already had furniture and appliances, so Lovino sold all of the ones he had in his old apartment. But he couldn't bring himself to sell that old but precious couch. It really wasn't much of a pretty thing to look at; it just held very fond memories. It was the first piece of furniture that Lovino and his grandmother bought for their apartment. She told him she hated their old couch back in Italy, which was stiff and smelled of his grandfather's feet.

He still remembers what she had said when they first sat down on the couch after settling into the apartment.

"This feeling," she said, leaning comfortably into the couch, "is the feeling of home."

And so, the couch became her favourite possession in the apartment. Whenever she wasn't in the kitchen cooking up a meal, she was on the couch, knitting a scarf, or reading a novel, or sometimes simply taking a nap.

So here it was, a little piece of "home" in his new residence.

…

After lugging the lumpy mattress onto the creaky wooden bedframe of Lovino's new bedroom, the two sat on the floor, unpacking the contents of the boxes.

Which, in all honesty, mostly consisted of Lovino's many articles of clothing. And nearly all of these happened to be designer clothes, which was pretty absurd for a poor university student living on his own.

"Lovi, why do you only buy designer clothes?"

"Because I have style," Lovino answers haughtily. "Unlike you. You'd be content with wearing a garbage bag."

_But he'd still look good in a garbage bag._

Good god! Lovino wanted to slap some sense into himself for thinking that.

_Stop thinking about your best friend like that! What's wrong with you?! Are you crazy?!_

Antonio, oblivious to Lovino's inner turmoil, laughs.

"Ha, you're probably right! I'd even wear a paper bag! Or a plastic bag! Haha!"

That was not helping.

"Aw, shut up, you dork." Lovino huffs, avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the afternoon.

…

Hours later of unpacking and organizing and rearranging, they were finally done. They said goodbye ("Yeah, go run home to your dog.") and Lovino met up with Toris for dinner at a local bistro, after which they began to walk back to their shared apartment. Both were too tired to cook, so they opted to eat out.

The two were engaging in light chatter when Toris looked up to his left and stopped.

"Hey, uh, do you want to stop for some ice cream?"

"Ice cream? Uhhhh… sure…" Lovino glances at him, unsure of why Toris would suddenly want to stop for some desserts.

They enter the small ice cream parlour, titled the "Gazzeria". The interior was larger than it looked from the outside. The light was warm and bright inside, and everything looked really nice and pleasant, but there were no other customers inside; probably too late in the night for enjoying frozen desserts, Lovino supposed.

Lovino looks up at the menu board to order something, but his attention is drawn away when a growling voice shrieks at him, "WHAT'S YOUR ORDER?!"

He sees a girl wearing an apron over her uniform behind the cash register, with long, flowing hair that is a very pale blonde colour adorned with a black ribbon. If she didn't wear such a scary expression on her face, she would actually be really beautiful.

"What the fuck? I'm still looking-"

"GIVE ME YOUR ORDER, NOW!"

"Hey, calm down – I'm – "

"WHAT ARE YOU ORDERING?!"

"One chocolate strawberry parfait." Toris suddenly injects.

The cashier's eyes narrow at Toris, and something flickers in her dark blue pupils. She turns back to Lovino.

"WHAT ABOUT YOU?!"

_Jesus Christ, what was up with this girl?_

"Uh – same thing as him." He quickly says.

She jabs the cash register with such aggression that Lovino felt sorry for the poor inanimate object.

Finally she stops yelling, but snarls out, "That will be 7.46."

Lovino pulls out a ten pound note, but as soon as he does, the cashier's face contorts to one like she had just swallowed a lemon.

"I need exact change, you dick!"

"What?! Why - What's wrong with – "

"GIVE ME EXACT CHANGE OR I'LL FUCKING RIP YOUR DICK OFF AND SHOVE IT INTO YOUR ICE CREAM!"

"Here!" Toris gives her a handful of exactly 7.46.

Lovino is still cringing at the outburst, and he shakily turns his head to Toris, who is looking slightly nervous, but not surprised at this cashier's attitude at all.

While they wait for their order, they sit at a table by the window.

"God, what a crazy bitch!" Lovino says, staring at her back from the table. She's chopping strawberries, and though it is a seemingly innocent task, she makes it look like she is slaughtering pigs.

When he doesn't hear a reply from Toris, he looks over at him. He's staring at her as well, but with a dreamy look in his eyes.

_How disturbing._

"Uh… Toris?"

"Her name's Natalya."

"Oh… " Lovino hesitates a little, and then asks, "You know her?"

"Well," Toris shifts a little in his seat. "Not really, I just like to come here… every now and again."

"What?! You like coming here? Even with her pissy attitude?"

"She's not so bad…"

Toris' face is one of pure admiration and adoration as he looks at Natalya. What the…

It clicks together in Lovino's head.

"Do you… do you have the hots for her?"

The colour of Toris' cheeks flush from ghostly white to a flaming red in an inhuman amount of time.

"Wha – uh – um – well…"

Lovino lets him continue stuttering for a few moments before he sighs, "So, you do."

"Okay. Yeah, sort of." He finally murmurs.

Lovino turns his head back to Natalya, who is now piling the ingredients together for their parfaits like a witch brewing some sickening potion. Oh well. Lovino had already lost his appetite a long time ago anyway.

What did Toris see in her? Honestly.

"ORDER NUMBER 39. TWO CHOCOLATE STRAWBERRY PARFAITS." She screams, even though the place is small enough that they can hear her without her raising her voice.

They walk over to get to get their ice cream, but she's not paying any attention to them. Instead, her eyes are fixated on the ice cream machine, and she's muttering to herself, "…yes… maybe… hmm… what's that? Yeah, I think so…"

Lovino shrinks away from her, as he quickly grabs his parfait off the counter. This girl just got more insane by the second!

"Thanks," Toris says to her, as he takes his, but he is ignored as she continues mumbling to herself.

"…no… maybe next week… yes, on the 134th day of the year…hmmm…"

They exit the store, and Lovino breathes a sigh of relief. He's about to tell Toris he never wants to go there again, but Toris speaks before him.

"I come here every Monday and Wednesday night. That's when she works… haha."

"Wow, so you go there just to get spazzed at by her?"

Toris laughs weakly. "Yeah, I'm aware of how she comes off to people, but I don't really mind that about her. I just really like her. And I can't explain it, but I guess you could say, simply, you don't choose who you fall in love with."

Lovino falls silent after hearing this. Toris continues.

"Like, what I mean is, or what I think I mean is, you don't love someone because of a certain quality… you just love them… for them."

After hearing this, Lovino rolls the words around in his head, processing them.

It was true to an extent.

Wasn't it?

Antonio was a huge annoying dumbass, but Lovino still…

Still…

Still what?

Lovino's brain freezes. What was he going to think?

He wasn't going to say it! No way!

Was he going to say "love"?

What?!

Whaaaat?!

He really needed to stop thinking of Antonio at every given moment.

They were just best friends! Nothing more, and nothing less…

Keep assuring yourself that, Lovino. Just keep reminding yourself.

"So, uh…"

Toris interrupts Lovino's whirwind of thoughts.

"You wouldn't mind coming here with me every now and then, would you?"

"Huh?"

"I feel a lot more comfortable when you're here, Lovino. I don't know, I feel like I can talk to her more confidently if you come with me…"

"Uh… really?"

"Yes! So is it alright with you?"

Toris' eyes are like light bulbs, shining expectantly at Lovino. Perhaps he could just do the poor bloke a favour.

"Yeah."

"Really?! Oh thank you, Lovino! So every Monday and Wednesday!"

Lovino gulps.

"Yep."

…

"Honey, I'm home!"

Lady barks from somewhere inside and dashes to the door to pounce into her owner's arms.

Antonio kisses her nose affectionately.

"Did you miss me?"

She nuzzles her small face into his neck in reply.

"Aww, I missed you too, sweetie! Sorry I'm a bit late today! I was on my way home, and then I remembered we were almost out of dog food! Don't worry, I got you your favourite one!"

He closes the door behind him, and walks to the kitchen, holding the plastic bags full of dog food, with Lady trailing close behind him.

Ever since he discovered that pets were allowed in the apartment complex he was moving into, he set out on a quest to obtain a pet of his own. He had always wanted one!

He had found a beautiful Spanish Water Dog with a fluffy coat the colour of warm caramel at a pet store, and took her home without a second thought.

Antonio named her Lady, after his favourite movie, the Lady and the Tramp. The famous and romantic spaghetti scene never failed to make him squeal in pure joy no matter how many times he watched it. Yes, squeal.

He poured his whole heart – and wallet – into taking care of Lady. While Lovino blew all his money on clothes, Antonio spent it on his precious dog. But it didn't matter what anyone said about her. He loved her with his entire being.

…

After both dog and owner finished their dinner, Antonio settled himself onto his sofa and flicked on the television, while Lady sat nearby, biting on a tomato-shaped chew toy.

That's when the telephone rings.

Antonio reaches for the phone at the end of the sofa and answers.

"Hello?"

"Antonio?"

It's a strong, but feminine voice, with a heavy Spanish accent.

"Mom?"

"Yes, it's me, darling,"

Antonio shifts up from the couch and sits a little straighter.

"Oh, hey mom! How are things?"

"Oh, good. Good. You know, the usual."

"Mhmm, and how's that?"

She sighs, a little tiredly. "Well, to put it quite bluntly, it's boring. Gardening, cooking, doing housework. Not exactly exciting stuff."

"Well, what about dad? Isn't he keeping you company?"

"Your father's a bore, you know that. All he ever does is take siestas and eat."

She softly exhales. "Enough about your old, boring folks. How about you, dear? How are you doing?"

"Great. Excellent, really. Lady and I are doing really good."

"Oh yes, Lady. How is she lately?"

"Terrific! You want to talk to her? Hold on, I'll go get her – "

He hears his mother laugh as he gets off the sofa to stride over to where Lady chewed at her toy.

He picks up Lady into his arms and holds the phone at her mouth.

"Say 'hi' to mommy, Lady!"

She barks excitedly into the receiver for a couple minutes before Antonio pulls it back to his ear and walks back to the sofa.

His mother is chuckling.

"What did Lady say?"

"Just that you're a total slob around the house."

"Oh, what?!" Antonio laughs and snuggles his nose into the top of Lady's head. "And what did you tell her?"

"I told her to take good care of my son."

"She is! And I'm taking good care of her, too."

"Hmmm," his mother softly says. "Right, about that. How are managing on your own? I know you said you would start paying for everything once you entered university, but now you're looking after a dog, too…"

"I'm fine, I'm fine… I'll start looking for a part-time job soon."

"You mean you haven't already?! What have you been doing all this time?"

"Spending time with Lady! Dogs over jobs! Haha!"

"Dear, this isn't exactly funny…"

"Yes, yes, I know, mom. Don't worry about me. I can handle it."

"Hmmmm. Okay. That's right, you're a grown young man now. Entering university in the fall. Ah, speaking of which…"

Oh no – here it comes. The part Antonio always dreaded in conversations with his mother.

"Have you decided what to major in?"

"Ahhhmmm," Antonio stalls, shifting the phone to his other ear. "Not really. Nope. I just chose General Studies."

His mother sighs. "You know you can't choose General Studies forever, dear. We let you take that in college so you could find what you wanted to do, but you can't keep choosing it for the rest of your life."

"Hnmmm." Antonio murmurs in response.

"There's no career for 'general studies'. No one specializes in 'general' things – that just, doesn't make sense. Everyone specializes in something. You understand, Antonio?"

"Nmmm, yeah mom."

"Okay, good,"

"Hmmm."

Antonio just didn't like thinking of what he wanted his future career to be. It just hurt his head, to imagine himself in his late thirties, probably hunched over a desk, filing papers or something dull like that, because that was what he would ever be good for. He really wasn't good at anything, let alone one specific thing.

But that situation is such a long time from now! He liked shoving that thought in the back of his head, but every so often, his mother would dig it up…

He loved his mother, and his mother loved him just as much, and he knew she only had good intentions, but he insisted on avoiding the topic whenever possible.

He tries to steer the conversation away.

"Uhmmm, does dad want to talk?"

"Well, he's watching the soccer game - you know how that is."

"Oh. What's the score?"

He hears soft shuffling of feet on the other end.

"It's 1 – 0." His mother reports.

"Oh. Nice."

Silence follows. They both feel the conversation winding down.

"Well, I guess I better go to sleep. You better get some sleep too, alright?" she says.

"I will, mom."

"Alright. I'll call you again some time. Or you can always call us."

"I will."

"Okay. Well then, goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight. Bye, mom."

"Bye, Antonio."

He replaces the phone onto its holder and lets out a long sigh.

Why was everyone so focused on the future?

He liked living each day one at a time. That way you could enjoy every single day. If you spent all your time worrying about what would happen tomorrow, you'd never appreciate the moments of the current day.

He lets his head drop on the sofa as Lady bounces over to lay on his stomach.

He talks softly to her, "Maybe I'll look for a job tomorrow. Or we could go for a nice walk."

Then he smiles, and gives her a hug.

"Oh, whatever! We'll think about it tomorrow."

* * *

**Translations**

Siesta – nap (Do we even need this here? I'm sure you all know it. Haha)


	4. June 24, 1997

**Author Note:** Hi again, readers! Alright, this time I truly apologize for being late. It's VERY late. But it wasn't because of writer's block (well, maybe a little bit). It was because I had such a BUSY weekend that I had no time to write, haha. I was up and about every single moment for the last three days. If you really care to know what I did, haha, I went to see a fireworks festival on the beach, made blueberry ice cream, had a backyard barbeque with the whole extended family, went shopping for nearly eight hours with my besties (we were so exhausted), and - though this is unrelated, but exciting - my neighbour's daughter got married and they held their wedding reception on their front lawn so I got to see/creep some of it LOL. The following few days, I never got around to uploading the chapter. Yehhh, I was quite occupied. So that's why this is not updated on time. (In fact, it is SO, SO, SO LATE D: )Anyway, I hope you all had a wonderful weekend/week as well! (:

**Kyouno-aru:** Sorry I didn't see your review before I posted the last chapter! Wahh thanks again for your review! It makes me so happy. C:

**Anon:** Thank you, Anon! I'm so glad you like it! :D Thanks for your review 3

**Fic notes:** This time's chapter is based off real life experiences. Finally! After writing all about things I needed to do research on, now I can finally draw information from my own life. It was kind of funny though, even though it was dangerous. Haha. But no. In all solemnity, please don't try at home!

**Writing note:** I don't know about you guys, but do you mind reading writing with fragments? Usually, they irk me to no end. But I am well aware my writing is full of it. I do it for effect… haha… I also don't want it to sound to stuffy so that's why. I hope you guys are okay with it, because I used to be super annoyed at reading stuff with fragments in it. But I suppose that for fanfics, it's okay?

Alright, here you go guys, another weird ass chapter.

* * *

Tuesdays.

Tuesdays are great.

Why?

There are so many reasons!

Lovino gets the day off at work on Tuesdays.

Lovino only has to pay half price for blueberry bagels on Tuesday.

Lovino didn't need to go to the Gazzeria on Tuesdays.

Lovino gets to see Antonio on Tuesdays.

But on this particular Tuesday, Lovino is in a terribly foul mood.

The first thing he hears in the morning is a blood-curdling screech and a painful crashing sound that is loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood – no, let me correct that – the whole city.

"Oh – oh – oh – it's eight?! Eight twenty?! No – oh god, no no no!"

Lovino grumbles sleepily and turns over onto his stomach. He hears his roommate flailing around their apartment, crashing into things left and right.

"Oh crap! Crap crap crap!"

More crashing.

Lovino grabs his pillow and hides his head under it.

He hears the noise of the closet door opening harshly, followed by the awful sound of the metal coat hanger scraping against the metal hanger rod.

"Make it stop," he mumbles into his mattress.

Even more crashing. Was that the sound of the toaster hitting the floor? An uncharacteristic "Shit!"

Lovino groans into his bed sheets and throws his pillow off to the side of his room. If he wasn't awake before, he definitely was now.

What is it now?

From the sounds of it, Toris clearly slept in, and now he was rushing to work like his life would end if he were to be late. Lovino supposed it was because they both slept pretty late the night before, due to arriving home at midnight after another Monday night at the Gazzeria. But this time, they stayed until after Natalya was finished her shift so Toris could finally ask for her phone number. It took them a while, though. They approached her tentatively and cautiously, afraid she would lash out at them in full force once she was unrestrained by the space of her workplace. But they were successful, after a long night and a whole lot of furious screaming, in getting Natalya's cell phone number. Toris was terribly ecstatic. At two am, Lovino still heard him rustling in his bed, with an occasional giggle coming out of his mouth. Lovino didn't get much sleep, either.

He turns to glare at his bedside clock. Eight twenty seven am. Dear God. He scrunches his eyes and buries his face back into his bed.

Eight twenty seven am. He NEVER woke up that early on a day off before. EVER. Days where he didn't have to work were for sleeping in. Sleeping in until he got hungry enough to leave his comfortable bed. Which was usually around two pm. Really.

God, and why this morning of all mornings? Lovino was in the middle of a very pleasant dream when he was awoken by his flustered roommate. What the dream was about will be left to the imagination.

Lovino tiredly sighs and lifts himself off the bed. He stretches his arms above his head a little, and then shuffles lazily out of his room. He is greeted by a terrifying mess.

What, did a tornado just pass through their apartment?

The dining table is knocked several metres askew. Two of their chairs are lying on the floor. A mug lies in the middle of a puddle of dark coffee. On the carpet. On their white carpet. The hydrangeas – oh the hydrangeas! – along with the vase somehow ends up on their couch, which is dripping with the water from the vase. The rug on the living room floor is soggy and wrinkled and bunched up like a dinosaur chewed it well and spat it out again. A dark dent decorates their once clear wall, like a bruise. And Lovino has still yet to survey the damage on Toris' side of the apartment.

Oh, and yes, that was indeed the sound of the toaster smacking against the hard tile floor of the kitchen. It now lay on the floor pathetically with pieces of burnt toast surrounding it.

What the actual fuck.

And yet, his roommate is at it. The bustling and crashes still continue as Lovino stoically stares at the spectacle in front of him. At last, Toris emerges from his room, panting and wheezing like a ninety year old that just finished a triathlon.

"Oh *wheeze* Lovino *cough* I'm running late *heavy breathing* so sorry *hack hack* about all this *shallow gasps* sorry *painful rasping* gotta go *puff puff* can't be late – "

He manages to say all this while clumsily putting on his tie, stumbling through the hallway, dropping his keys on the floor, hastily picking them up, stepping into his shoes without bothering with the laces and then running smack into the door in his frenzy. Toris tries again, this time actually turning the door knob before trying to exit.

"I'm sorry *wheeze* b-bye – "he says as he flounders out of the apartment at last.

Moments pass, and Lovino is still standing there, speechless. He slowly turns back to the chaos that was once their home.

_Fuck my life._

….

Tuesdays are great.

But really, what day _isn't_ great for Antonio?

However, Tuesdays are special.

Antonio gets a visit at work from Lovino on Tuesdays.

And on this particular Tuesday, Antonio was in a fantastic mood.

"Good morning, Antonio!"

Tino beamed a smile at Antonio as he stepped out onto the streets to meet the blonde boy.

"Morning, Tino!" Antonio greeted back.

He hands Antonio a small brown paper bag, while clutching one in his own hands as well.

"Here you go," he says in his thick Nordic accent. "Your breakfast. It's a blueberry bagel from that bakery you like."

"Oh thanks, Tino! You're always too kind,"

"No problem! It was on my way here anyway. And it's half price today!"

"Seriously? Nice!"

The two coworkers walk together down the street in the light of the early morning. It was a daily routine. Tino lived two blocks away from Antonio's flat, and the two met up every morning to walk to work together, which was another three blocks, occasionally buying breakfast for each other.

They worked at the small café called Teapots located on High Street in Olney, a small market district of Buckinghamshire. It was a cute, little coffee house, full of vintage tea ware and pretty wall decorations. It was the type of cafe that Antonio would want to sit down and relax in. So it was clear he loved being there; it was his dream job.

Tino and Antonio were two of the four few employees that worked at Teapots. The owner nicknamed them Tweedledee and Tweedledum, because they were Tino and Toni, Toni and Tino. The other two worked the evening shift, so they rarely saw them. Antonio only knew that one of them was a high school student working part time, and the other was a well-seasoned barista that worked at various cafes before.

This particular morning, business was not busy, but also not slow; the regulars came at their usual times, a few hurrying business men in suits stopped by to quickly get their daily fill of caffeine and some dawdling individuals in no rush to get anywhere sipped at their tea peacefully by the large, front window.

Really, this job was the best. All Antonio had to do was make drinks (which he found out he wasn't half bad at), take care of payment transactions and sometimes clean up the place, but it was usually almost always spotless.

The owner took care of all the food, and that was something Antonio really appreciated, that all the pastries and bread that the café served were fresh and homemade every day.

Nowadays, with fast food chains popping up at every corner, these home-style places were becoming more and more rare. He just hoped that they wouldn't disappear altogether.

As Antonio stood at the counter, watching the customers enjoy their coffee break, he couldn't help but feel excited that this wonderful day was about to get more wonderful at the thought of seeing Lovino later.

….

Shit.

Today is just a shitty day.

It wasn't the first time that this has happened – Toris tended to go on a rampage through the apartment when he was running late.

One time, he suddenly remembered he had an appointment while he was in the bath, and he jumped out of the tub and out of the apartment in light speed, completely forgetting to _turn off the water._ This was not discovered until Lovino arrived home one day from work to find the entire apartment floor covered in an inch of water. It was very troublesome; they had to get the plumbers and the repairmen to fix everything since the water had flooded down to the flat below theirs.

The second time was the day after they changed all their clocks for day light savings time, well – all but one, which happened to be Toris' alarm clock. He woke up in a frenzy, and proceeded to storm through the apartment like a disorientated truck, destroying everything in its wake. The two cleaned up together when they both returned from work, and it took them till well after midnight to finish. Toris apologized repeatedly, but the damage had been done, including one broken plate, a chair missing a leg and the bathroom door needing to be replaced.

Today, it looks much worse than it ever did. Lovino wonders how much it will cost this time. The other two times had taken his whole month's salary plus a part of his savings EACH time.

Toris was a great roommate – he really was. He was respectful of Lovino's space, never loud or annoying, and most of all, he was neat and hygienic. But if Lovino had to deal with another one of his fits of violent punctuality, he would seriously go crazy – and broke.

_Better get started_, Lovino groans in his head as he faces the mess.

He starts by straightening the rug, wondering what on earth happened for it to be in its current condition. He repositions the table and the two chairs. He plucks the hydrangeas off the soggy couch and puts them back into their vase, hoping they didn't die; they were in a pretty poor state.

He smells something in the air, however he can't pin down what the smell is. But more importantly, what should be done with the horribly stained carpet? He grabs a wad of paper towels and presses it against the carpet, but it has all soaked up already.

Lovino walks back to his room and takes out the huge copy of Yellowpages. He flips through the massive book for a carpet cleaner.

_I hope it can be cleaned… I don't want the carpet replaced – that'll be way too costly. My wallet wouldn't be able to handle it. Aw fuck …_

He is still flipping through the book when he notices the strange smell has grown stronger. He lifts his nose a little higher, inhaling deeply to identify the smell.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Oh… it's… what was it – oh – it's smoke.

Okay, what stupid fucker was smoking outside their apartment? The apartment building had a non-smoking policy inside and outside within a ten metre proximity. They'd better be prepared to hear an earful of cursing from an angry Italian if they were going to do that.

Lovino grits his teeth and approaches his bedroom window. He sticks his head out and peers down, but there is no smoker to be seen, just a few people walking around or scurrying to catch a taxi.

Huh.

Then where is the smoke coming from?

Is it one of his neighbours burning their breakfast?

He exits his bedroom to investigate, but as soon as he steps out into the kitchen, he is greeted by a fuming cloud of smoke.

Shit!

Shit shit shit!

He coughs and drops to the floor. Fuck! The entire kitchen ceiling is engulfed in a layer of white smoke. Why isn't the smoke detector going off?! There was smoke here, alright!

_Oh, right,_ Lovino remembers. He had pulled the batteries out of that thing because it was so freaking irritating. Whenever he cooked, it would go off, even though there was no food burning at all. _Beep beep beep_ every time he fried an egg. _Beep beep beep_ every time he heated up a can of soup. Fuck, was it annoying. It was clearly defective. So he removed the batteries and shut the damn thing up for good.

But now, he regrets doing that with every strained breath he wheezes.

He crawls across the kitchen floor on his hands and knees and locates the source of the smoke – the still plugged-in coffee maker that was smoking up the entire place. He yanks the plug out of the thing and then rushes to open all of the windows. He hangs his head out of the living room window, trying to fill his lungs with fresh air.

God, this is just horrible. Horrible.

That's when he hears the sirens of a fire truck getting closer and closer.

Fuck.

Someone called the fire department.

_Just. _

_Fuck._

_My._

_Life._

…..

"Hello?" Antonio answers his cell phone. Yes, he had finally gotten one.

"Hey, Toni."

"Olivia?"

"Yup."

"Hey! What's up?"

"Are you on your lunch break?" she asks her boyfriend.

"Uh huh, I'm just finishing my lunch."

Antonio had met Olivia when they both entered university. She was an exchange student from Puerto Rico studying history at the same university as Antonio. She was intelligent, fluent in both Spanish and English, pretty and real nice, too. They started dating shortly after they met.

"Mhmm… how was your day?"

"Great! How about yours?"

"It was fine," she replies. She wants to talk more, but she doesn't know what to say. Maybe she just called to hear his voice. It had been a few days since she had seen him, too. They had both been preoccupied with plans for a couple of days, so they were not able to meet up. So she asks hopefully, "When will I see you again?"

"Ummmm, tomorrow, if you want."

"Not tonight?"

"Oh, tonight, I'm meeting up with Lovino. You know, Tuesdays."

"Oh."

"Sorry, darling. You could join us, maybe – "

"No, no, it's okay," she sighs. She knew how it was when it came to his best friend Lovino.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You guys have fun."

"Okay."

"I'll call you again tomorrow?"

"Sure."

There is a brief pause between them.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He says.

Another pause.

"Okay. Bye."

"See ya."

They both hang up. Olivia sighs sadly as she places her phone back on her table and rests her head on her arms. She could feel it ending. Seeing and talking to each other seemed more like an obligation than a pleasure. Their relationship was terminating like a clockwork toy winding down. They both liked each other, but it felt like only _she_ was in love.

In fact, she wasn't even sure if he ever loved her. He probably liked her as a person, and thought it would make sense to start dating, but he didn't do it out of love. No, it wasn't love. He didn't love her.

She feels her eyes growing wet.

Antonio didn't love her. He loved many things, but he didn't love her. He loved his best friend, Lovino – she could see it in his eyes, his voice, his face – heck, he even looked at his dog with more love than he did at her. Why did she only realize now? Or maybe she knew it all along. She just wanted to believe it wasn't so.

A tear leaks out of her eye and she wipes it away quickly.

It's time to end this. She couldn't stay any longer in a relationship with a man she loved but didn't love her back.

Her heart would break even more.

….

Finally.

FINALLY, after a whole two and a half hours of dealing with the firemen and the apartment management and the neighbours – oh god, the neighbours – Lovino was out of the building and ready to leave to Milton Keynes.

The apartment still stinks of smoke; it resembles the inside of a heavy smoker's home. Gross. But luckily, that is the extent of the damage done, if you didn't count the mess Toris caused on his way out. Yes, nothing caught on fire or nobody died, so that was good. But Lovino did get in a shitload of trouble. He got a fine – yes, a two hundred and fourteen pound FINE for failure to install a working smoke detector. Great, just great. Right? At least they didn't have to take legal action. Thank goodness. Otherwise Lovino would be living on the streets faster than he could say, well, really, _anything._

He had received a lot of heckling from his neighbours, too. He was probably called "you bloody damn punk" and "stupid boy" more times in those two hours than he had in his entire twenty years of life.

The apartment managers had a lot to say, as well. Well, of course they would. He nearly burned down the whole building with all four hundred and eighty nine tenants in it. They had very generously (but yet, Lovino still scowled and cursed them behind their back) let him off with a warning and a lecture, though if he had actually set a fire in his kitchen, he would be fined in addition to his fine from the fire department, and it was possible he would get evicted from the apartment building.

_God, Toris._ Lovino wanted to wring his hands at the Lithuanian boy – but, but… no, he wouldn't ever be able to find another roommate as good as him.

He'll have to let it go.

_Let it go, Lovino._

But not before venting out the day's frustrations at him and giving him a long, harsh talk about his destructive outbreaks once he returned from work.

He walks through the parking lot to his car, a second hand Honda Civic in a shade of peeling red. The doors squeaked and the stuffing of the seats poked through, but overall, it was working in good shape.

He gets into the rusty car and starts the engine. He pulls out of the lot and proceeds on his trip to Milton Keynes. He knows the directions to Antonio's workplace by heart; he's been there enough times to memorize the way.

The two best friends lived in separate cities because of their universities, but they were only separated by a forty minute driving distance, which could be considered short, or long, depending on how you looked at it. It was short taking in the fact that they had ended up going to universities in the same area, because for all they knew, they could have moved abroad to study. It was long if you counted the fifty five pounds of gas money, which they did. So their visits were limited to Tuesdays and weekends. But of course those fifty five pounds were worth it, whether it was from MK to Buckinghamshire, or the other way around.

Of course it was.

N-not like he wanted to see the bastard that bad.

Okay, he did.

In fact, Lovino got especially temperamental whenever he didn't get to see him.

Gosh, he was sounding like a sissy, love-struck teenage girl.

_Alright, enough_, he tells himself as he continues driving. He'd better hurry there before he starts throwing a tantrum.

…..

"Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, I'm good. You should go."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I've got everything under control."

"Okay. Bye, Antonio! See you tomorrow!" Tino gives one last wave as he leaves the café.

It's ten minutes till closing time, and Tino has a dinner in Northampton to get to, so he left early. All the customers were long gone as well.

Antonio takes his time stowing away the equipment for the day. He frequently looks out the window to check for a certain fussy Italian. None to be seen.

_That's strange,_ he thinks to himself. _He's usually here about half an hour before closing time._

He stacks the chairs onto the tables and the stools onto the counter. He shuts off the lights.

It's already past closing time now. He locks up the door and walks out to the sidewalk.

He's getting worried now. He glances at his watch.

Antonio paces a little in front of the café nervously, looking in all directions.

Where is Lovino?

…..

Lovino looks at the built-in clock in his car. Shit, he's late. Really late.

He still has quite a ways to go. He focuses on his driving, but his mind keeps wandering off to the thought of Antonio waiting anxiously for him.

Crap!

Why is he getting so worked up just because he is late? He's not like Toris, god no!

It's not like he'll die if he saw Antonio a second later.

Right?

Right?!

Ugh, stupid brain.

Okay, six blocks left to go… turn right, five… four… oh – red light. Mmmm, hurryhurryhurry, okay go! Three… two… he can see Antonio already, standing outside.

…

Antonio lets out a sigh of relief as he spots the old red car spluttering down the road and pulling over to stop at the side. He runs across the road carelessly, but fortunately no other cars were passing by, and greets his friend with a hug as soon as he gets out of the car.

"Lovi!"

"Ugh! Get off me, idiot!"

"Haha, sorry," Antonio says and pulls his arms away, which Lovino instantly regrets – like always. "I was just worried. I thought something bad happened!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, something bad did happen today," Lovino admits.

"What, really? What happened? And you smell like... smoke."

Lovino groans a little remembering all the crap he had to go through today. "Let's go first. I'll tell you all about it."

"Okay," Antonio grins. "Let's go."

Lovino smiles back once Antonio turns away and he is sure he isn't looking.

Yes.

Despite it all…

Tuesdays are great.

* * *

**No translations! Whoa!**


	5. June 24, 1998

**Author Note:** Hi readers! Also, hi new followers! ^_^ I hope you are all doing wonderful! (:

Yes! I uploaded on time! Yays~ I should really write faster. I am so slow. -_-'' I don't know if I should scrap the schedule or just write faster. Probably write faster. Or should I just upload whenever. Huhuuuh I don't know. I kinda wrote this upon impulse after reading the book, and I'm running out of juice to write this. This is straining my brain LOLS. Writing is not an easy task for me. Oh well, please bear with me when my writing becomes trash! I'll keep trying my best though. c:

This chapter is really… I don't know how to describe it. You will have to read it. I wrote most of it while listening to the song This Woman's Work on repeat. Old song, but it's a beautiful song no matter who sings it (My favourites are Maxwell and Hope Murphy, though). I know the meaning of the song doesn't fit the chapter, but some of the lyrics really do. I was getting emotional LOL. Maybe that is why this chapter turned out a lot more dramatic and sad than I originally planned. Really, I wasn't intending for it to sound so hammy! Gosh, now that I read it again, it actually is really sappy. Whoops. Yeah, I think I overdid it. Errrr… but I guess I'll just leave it like that.

**Totally irrelevant but totally important:** Okay, not really important, but I MUST, MUST, MUST talk about this! I am absolutely awestruck and dying from overflowing emotions of love and feels and amazement. BUT REALLY. Okay, here it goes… I went to watch Pacific Rim yesterday and it was the best decision I have ever made in my whole life. NO JOKE. I'm not even exaggerating! It has been MUCH TOO LONG since I have watched a film with such a powerful impact. OKAY, I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. A seemingly mainstream and dull mecha vs monster movie actually being any good beyond the trite action fight scenes? But can you imagine? I mean, I don't even like the mecha genre AT ALL. Like, Transformers or Gundam Seed? Uh… no thanks. BUT FLYING COWS, PACIFIC RIM IS REALLY AN EXCEPTION. Guillermo del Toro is a true genius. How on earth do you make a MECHA MOVIE a piece of art? Really! But he nailed it! That film was a work of art – visually stunning, conceptually beautiful and incredibly moving – everything a film should be! OH, but there was one thing that I found was not as impressive as everything else, which was the script. Like, it was good for the most part, however some lines could have been written better in my opinion, but the movie wasn't script-heavy anyway. Otherwise, MAN I JUST LOVED THAT MOVIE TO BLITHERING BITS. I could write so much more about this masterpiece of a movie but I'm sure you're all really bored from reading this, so I'll just end this by saying that YOU SHOULD GO WATCH PACIFIC RIM! If you already have, then ffsldnsdjksdnfkf I hope you loved it as much as I did! :DDD

**poisonedapple13:** Oh my gosh, you are an absolute sweetheart! I love you, too! Ahhh *dies from your review* Thank you so much… you have given me the biggest compliment a writer could ever hope to receive! I think I'm crying! Oh my god, I'm crying! Eeeek! I'm glad you're liking everything! To be honest, I was afraid I was taking things too slow, haha! I'll continue doing my best! Once again, thank you! Your review has made my life! :'DDD

**Sate Komodo Owo**: Ahhhh, you are too kind! Seriously! I don't deserve it! You really liked it? I'm so happy! Eeeeee you made me super happy! ^_^ *sobs grossly* Oh, your review is so beautiful! I'm going to print it out and put it on my wall and worship it! Thank you for reading, and I'll keep putting out my best effort in writing new chapters! (:

Here's the chapter! I hope you don't mind the melodramatic-ness. Yeah...

As always, feedback is always appreciated :D

* * *

_Don't go._

_Please don't go._

_Stay here._

_What am I going to do without you here?_

_…_

_Say it._

_No, don't say it._

_But… you want to, don't you?_

_But – _

"Hey, Lovi, what are you thinking about?"

Lovino whips his head up at a speed fast enough to break his neck.

"Huh?!"

"You just had this really funny expression. Like you were thinking really hard." Antonio chuckles a little.

"Shut up, idiot," Lovino mutters back as he turns his head away, feeling a blush creep up his face.

"What were you thinking so hard about?"

"N-none of your business!"

"Come on, you can say it!"

Say it? Should he? He really should, but at the same time, he really shouldn't. What he really needs to do is to think about this thoroughly, alone. So he says, "Quit bothering me. Are you done packing yet?"

"Yeah, I pretty much am. I'll just take a look around and see if I missed anything." Antonio responds brightly and strides away to check the empty rooms of his apartment.

Lovino exhales a little and leans back on the wall of the completely bare living room. He looks around the room, once filled with Antonio's quaint flea market paintings and unique furniture finds at the thrift store, now stripped and void. This really is happening. Four months ago, Lovino couldn't believe it. Now, with reality inches in front of his face, he still couldn't believe it.

….

"Say what?!"

"That's right."

"No – really – "

"Yup. I'm going travelling."

"Like, actually travelling? Not just a vacation?"

Antonio nods. "Yes, I'm actually moving away."

Lovino sits there, trying to process this sudden news. What? Antonio is _moving away?_

"W-why?"

Antonio gives Lovino a serious look, and pauses dramatically.

"To find myself."

Lovino groans and presses his head into his hands.

"Oh my god, you are so lame. Are you for real? I bet you're going away just so you can say that: 'To find myself'."

"Maybe," Antonio admittedly laughs. "But doesn't it sound cool?"

"No, Antonio. It doesn't."

"Not even a little?"

"No."

They both sit still, thinking quietly to themselves while listening to the hum of the refrigerator in the back of the Teapots café.

"So, what's the meaning behind all this?" Lovino starts slowly.

Antonio sits up a little and rests his chin on his hand.

"Well, it's about time I figured out what I want to do. I mean, after four years of post-secondary, I really need to find it: my purpose in life."

"Oh." is all Lovino can say.

"Yup."

Gentle silence surrounds them again as they think of what to say next.

"So you're going to go travelling."

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"I haven't decided. Anywhere, really."

"When are you going?"

Antonio stretches out his arms and yawns. "I'm hoping to have everything arranged by the summer."

The questions are now loading up in Lovino's head like a bucket under a tap.

"What about your apartment?"

"I'm going to sell it."

"Are you leaving your job?"

"Yes, I'm going to have to leave."

"How about your dog?"

"I might send her to my parents. Oh – unless you want to take care of her. Haha, but I doubt it…"

Lovino makes a face. "No thanks. You're just going to leave her?"

"Yeah… it's too bad I can't bring her with me."

"Aren't you… aren't you going to miss her?"

"Yes," Antonio says, turning to face the window. "But that's the way it goes. I'll have to deal with it."

Lovino stares into his lap. This is so sudden. It is just so out of the blue. It still doesn't make sense in his head.

"You'll call me, right? And write me letters?" Antonio asks.

"Y-yeah, of course." Lovino says, and adds, "You, too, right?"

"Of course."

Lovino hesitates, and then asks him the most important question:

"When are you coming back?"

And then comes the most dreaded answer:

"I don't know."

….

Now, with seven hours before Antonio's plane takes off, Lovino is still having an internal struggle to tell Antonio to stay after months of trying and failing.

He wants to tell Antonio. He wants him to stay. He knows he can't stand it without Antonio by his side. The last time Antonio went on vacation was hell for Lovino, like it always was. But now, Antonio was moving away. When he would come back would remain a mystery until the day he actually comes back. What was Lovino going to do? Wait for him? Like last time?

He couldn't go with him. What - was he going to pack a couple of bags and just jump aboard the wagon and yell, '"I'm coming with you!"? He couldn't do that. His life is here: his job, his place, his future – it's here.

So he should tell him.

_Stay here with me. Please. Don't leave._

But he can't.

This is Antonio's decision. He can't be so selfish to make him stay just for his sake.

But it all comes down to _why._

_Why_ couldn't Lovino let Antonio leave?

Yes, they were good friends – best friends – but it's not like they were inseparable. They could be apart, couldn't they? It's not like they were lovers being forced into a long distance relationship. No, it was nothing like that! They were just friends.

Friends.

Friend.

His only friend.

The only person in his life.

That's why.

If Antonio left, Lovino would have nobody.

…

Antonio is peering at his empty apartment more with sadness than care as he searches for anything he forgot to pack. The place is like an empty shell of a crab, the owner gone to look for a bigger, better home.

But what about the things he would leave behind?

His beloved job. The country he called home for seven years. His precious Lady. His best friend – no, not just his best friend – the most important person in his life.

He was willing to let all of these things go? For what? Look at all these things he had to lose, and what did he have to gain?

To find his future? Was it worth it?

He knew if Lovino asked him to stay, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"Please stay, Antonio."

That was all he would need to hear. Three words. He would drop his bags on the floor and throw his arms around him while telling him, _I won't go anywhere -_

Antonio stops in the middle of his thoughts. What was he thinking? Was he having regrets just hours before his flight? He couldn't do that. He just _couldn't._ And he _couldn't_ say that.

No, really, what was he thinking? He couldn't just suddenly throw his dream away.

This is what he wanted. Right. This was his dream: to travel and meet people from around the world. It was what he wanted most before. That was why he was in England in the first place.

But things had changed since then. Things had changed since he was a young dreamer hoping to explore the ends of the Earth and meeting new people. He hadn't thought about leaving what he valued most behind in order to pursue this dream.

But he couldn't change his mind now. No. He is going to do it. This is what he wanted.

…

Right?

…..

"Hey."

Antonio looks up and sees Lovino standing at the doorway of the empty room.

"Are you okay?" it's something atypical of Lovino to say, but right now, it hardly matters.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Antonio rubs his face against his hands as if to rub off the stress of his dilemma.

Lovino bites his lip and hesitates. Is he going to say it? Ask him to stay?

No.

Lovino.

Don't.

So instead, he says, "Are you ready to go?"

Antonio blinks a little, and takes one last look around him, and says, "Yup. I'm good to go."

….

They make their way to the parking lot, where Lovino's car is parked in a guest parking spot. The only things Antonio brings with him are two heavy suitcases – his life in two luggage bags. They throw it into the trunk and start on their trip to the nearest airport, Cambridge Airport, which is roughly an hour's drive away.

Before he starts the car, Lovino asks again, "Ready to go?"

Was he expecting an answer other than 'yes'? Maybe. One could hope.

"Yes."

Too bad.

…

The drive there is a quiet one, even for the usually boisterous and energetic Antonio. They don't exchange any words, but not because they have nothing to say; they just don't know whether to say it or not. After all, they may never get a chance to say those words again, because then it would be too late.

_Actually, Antonio, I don't want you to go._

_I don't think I can do this. _

_Can you please stay?_

_Hey, we can turn this car around right now. I don't have to go._

_Please don't go._

_I can stay._

_Don't leave me here._

_I don't want to go anymore._

_Stay here._

_What will I do without you?_

But neither of them say a single word.

….

The wait at the airport is even worse. The air is filled with the tension of words waiting to be said, but they never come out. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Waiting for someone to say it first.

Waiting for the right timing.

Waiting for the plane's departure.

Lovino stares at the design on the carpeted floor while Antonio's eyes are fixed on the large wall clock in front of him.

Why was it so hard?

Why was it so hard to just tell him what he wanted to say?

He was right there, next to him, less than a foot away, and in a matter of time, he would be gone, eight thousand kilometres away.

_Just say it._

_Say it._

_Say it._

_"Please stay, Antonio."_

_That's all you need to say._

_Please._

_Say it._

_…_

_No, I can't._

_I can't._

_Don't do this, Lovino._

_You have to think about Antonio._

_His future._

_This isn't about you._

_Don't do it. _

_But…_

_If you don't, you'll never get the chance again…_

And the process repeats over and over as Lovino churns his head painfully to battle between his internal instinct and his desire.

Meanwhile, Antonio is shaking uncontrollably on the inside, dealing with problems of his own.

Why does this feel wrong when it used to be so right?

Why does he need to convince himself this is what he wants?

It was his lifelong dream, and now he is minutes away from doing it, and yet, he was hesitating.

What does he really want?

….

The time is finally here.

"Flight 501 will now be boarding. All passengers taking this flight please proceed to Gate 4B."

The two do not move a hair as they watch the people in front of them line up with their tickets at Gate 4B. Now, their heads are whirling so much, they can't tell if their minds are racing with thoughts or they are completely blank.

The line is thinning out steadily.

It's only a matter of time…

This is happening.

This is really happening.

Now, the line has proceeded beyond the gate. Only a few people run over to rush to their flight.

"Flight 501 will be taking flight shortly. All passengers taking this flight please proceed to Gate 4B immediately."

This is it.

Lovino feels his heart stop as Antonio gets up from his seat next to him. He swallows hard and slowly gets on his feet as well.

Really, this is time to say it all.

Just say it.

"So," Antonio says, softly and slowly. "I'll be going now."

"Yeah." Lovino chokes out, his throat dry after not saying anything for hours.

Antonio lets his mind go blank. Whatever he says next, he just prays that it will be the right thing to say.

Antonio takes a breath and says, "I'll miss you."

Lovino's lungs feel like collapsing. This really is it. This is happening.

"I-I'll miss y-you, too."

Yes. This is it. This is goodbye.

Antonio stretches out his arms to wrap around Lovino's shoulders, but in a split second Lovino reaches out first to grab the back of Antonio's shirt as he presses his face into his chest.

Antonio's arms tightly squeeze Lovino's shoulders as Lovino hugs him back much too eagerly, crushing the air out of Antonio's lungs. As sure as he knows Antonio can feel his own rapid heartbeat through his shirt, Lovino can feel Antonio's heart pounding against his chest like it is his own pulse. Why couldn't they could stay locked in this embrace forever?

The hug is much too long.

Much too long for two people that are "just" friends.

Much too long.

And at the same time, not long enough.

Not long enough for two people who were about to be separated by eight thousand kilometres of land mass and ocean for God knows how long.

Not nearly long enough.

But at the same time, it is perfect. It is all the time Lovino needs to finally realize that these warm, loving arms are too dear for him to let go, that the smell of him is all it takes to make his heart melt, that the presence of Antonio is all he needed to live.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Antonio beats him to it.

Antonio's voice is a whisper of warm breath, pressed into the top of Lovino's head, but Lovino hears it clear and resonating like it was spoken right into his ear.

"Goodbye, Lovino."

The arms around him go limp as Antonio pulls away and turns around without giving him one last glance. Lovino watches blankly at Antonio's retreating back as he disappears down the gate. It is all happening so fast, but it seems like it is in slow motion.

He's gone.

Antonio's gone.

And Lovino didn't get to say what he wanted.

He didn't even get to say "goodbye".

…

It's not like the end of the world.

It's not like he'll never see him again.

It's not like he won't hear from him.

It's not like they won't talk.

He just won't be… there.

Lovino stares at the glowing clock in his dark car. It's ten forty at night already. He had sat in his car for hours, crying his heart out. Antonio's plane was already up in the air, moving farther and farther away.

He really should be heading home, instead of sobbing like a lonely drunkard in an airport parking lot. It was an hour's drive home, anyway. Toris would be wondering.

But how could he drive with all these tears in his eyes?

Even after all these hours, that single "Goodbye, Lovino." got louder and louder in his head, and the pain just escalated as the time passed.

He wipes his face on his tear-soaked sleeve.

_God, get it together. _

He starts the car, and pulls out of the airport onto the highway. The long, wide expanse of road seemed tiny compared to the night sky, looming and dark, swallowing everything like a monster of darkness, and yet it is comforting in a way, filled with twinkling stars, just like that one fateful night. Lovino's eyes flicker off the road to watch the dazzling sky. He sees a fleck of light moving among the still stars.

Be it a shooting star or Antonio's plane, he wills a wish to it.

_I hope you're happy in the end, Antonio._

…..

In a way, it is quiet in the airplane cabin. Everybody is either sleeping or being silent, listening to the sound of the noisy airplane engine rumbling.

But it is loud in Antonio's head. He is desperately fighting back the tears that kept trying to leak out. He wants to cry, but he couldn't let it show. The pain of goodbye is actually much worse than he ever envisioned. A million times worse. He never imagined how hard saying goodbye would be.

He knew if he held onto Lovino for even a moment longer, he wouldn't be on this plane right now. He'd be on the ground, still hugging Lovino, because the feeling of Lovino's body wrapped protectively in his arms made him never want to let him go. But he couldn't do that. He needed to let go.

Because this is it. This is his dream. It is what he had always wanted.

He just never imagined chasing dreams would be this painful.

* * *

**Translations:**

None! Have you noticed there have been fewer and fewer translations?


	6. June 24, 1999

**Author's Note: **Hi readers! Wow, very late (no, really… it is _shamefully_ late…) update… I just kept putting this off. I had some really awful writer's block, so I've really been doing everything but writing. So I'm so very sorry times infinity and beyond. I haven't forgotten about this, so don't worry. DDD: However… Ummm… a word of warning, I guess: so since school is starting, updates will be very sporadic, meaning very inconsistent *cringe* and very sparse *fliches* BUT I PROMISE AND VOW I will not let this story go unfinished before I die, so unless I drop dead one of these days (OMG knock on wood!) this story will have an ending! It shall be complete! It's really something that I need to do for myself, since I honestly need to work on my commitment and I will be forever haunted knowing I started something and did not commit to it the end. I can do this! Fight the writer's block!

**Sleep-deprived rambles:** After two wonderful months of daily sunshine, the sky has finally decided to let it all out at once on this stormy, rainy August night, with drops of rain cascading down from the skies like the tears from my eyes at the thought of summer ending. *sobs* Is the weather coordinated with my emotions? It must be. A chaotic rainstorm, complete with thunder and lightning, to match the turbulent brain-storm in my head. But really, I actually really love thunderstorms. I think lightning is one of the most beautiful and terrifying things on this planet. When I observe it closely, it really looks like someone is flickering a giant flashlight over my house, dousing everything with light and illuminating the entire sky. Then comes the thunder, oh how I love the sound of thunder! A powerful rumble that resonates through the house like a giant beast's deep growl – oh, it's simply thrilling to hear! And the rain! As much as I love the sun, rain just has the most magical effect. I just want to run outside right now and dance in the rain!(not the safest thing to do, I know) But alas, it's four in the morning. So even though I would do it, I don't think my neighbours would appreciate the crazy kid next door prancing around in the dead of the night because that would be just plain creepy. I should stop talking right? Yeah, I should really go to bed. Okay, uploading this, and going to sleep. I should really stop writing this at four AM, right? The reason I do, though, is because it's the best and worst time to write for me. On one hand, it is quiet and peaceful, which is perfect for writing, but on the other hand my brain turns to mush and spouts the kind of fugly thing that you read now. It's like one of those tattoos you get while drunk. (uhh, not that I ever did! Get drunk or get tattoos! I just thought it was a good comparison?! oh shut up you) While doing it, you're like haha totally~, but the next morning, you go like what was I thinking, and then ugh too late to regret it now. Oh hell. I really need sleep. Can you tell? Oh my god, stop already.

**poisonedapple13:** Hi again! "Update soon?" CRAP, I'M SORRY I DIDN'T! *cries* huffs I'm a terrible person but you're such a sweetie once again. Thanks for reviewing ahhhh

**Anon:** Ahhh sorry for making you wait omg! Thank you for reviewing!

**Book Thief101:** Oh gee, don't stress out too much! You'll make me stress out, too! Thanks for reading and thank you for your review!

Wow, reading your reviews made me incredibly sad and guilty. I'm the worst! I feel terrible! Really, for all of you that are STILL following this, gosh, you guys, I don't deserve you! But if you're willing to stay and read my awful writing, oh, you sweet sweet and tolerant human being, you have a special place in my heart.

Anyway, I'll end this off by saying good luck to all you readers beginning school again. Work hard! Likewise, I will do my best, too, both in school and working on this fic. And again, I don' think I can apologize enough for taking so long ):

Alright, here you go! Another pitiful chapter of this, took extra long to write, but for no practical reason at all.

Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

He's saying something in Spanish, but she doesn't hear any of it. She observes him quietly with awe, watching his lips move as the words come out of his mouth. The afternoon sun makes his tanned skin look even more gorgeous than it already was.

If asked what her favourite day of the week was, she would say Wednesday. Specifically, every Wednesday at 3:00 pm, because that was when she could spend time with him – er, when she could learn Spanish. Yes, the joys of learning to speak Spanish!

"Does that make sense?"

"Hm?" she snaps her attention back to him.

"Oh," He smiles warmly back at her. Oh, that goddamn beautiful smile. "This grammar point right here. How to change 'el papel' to 'los papeles'."

"Uhmm, could you please explain it again?"

"Sure!" he beams.

God, why is he so perfect?

For the second time of the day, but most definitely not the second time of her lessons with him, she focuses more on his wondrous face than his explanation of when to add 'es' to make a word plural. Did she really need any reason more than those lush green eyes and heart-melting smile? Didn't think so.

But not only was his face intriguing, so was his room. It had the ability to make her feel warm and fuzzy no matter what her mood was, no matter what the weather was like outside, no matter how bad her day was. He had the most interesting things in his flat, like the row of gorgeous Matroyshka dolls on his shelf, or the bright yellow ukulele adorned with a colourful lei around its neck, or the hand-crafted decor purchased from the markets of Peru. One of her most liked belonging of his was a simple poster that contained only a quote: _Be a traveler, not a tourist._ It was almost amusing, in a sense, but held a thoughtful meaning. He also had a wall covered in framed photographs, which were all either of him in famous locations, him with people he met in his travels, or pictures of his closest friends and family. He had pointed out his most favourite to her once, and she was a little surprised, not expecting such a plain photo. She was imagining a grand photo of him, maybe posing heroically next to the Eiffel Tower or something like that.

But his favourite was a photo of him, grinning more happily then she had ever seen him in real life, maybe a few years ago when he was younger, with his arm slung comfortably around another boy.

"That's my best friend," he had told her.

And this particular "best friend" always managed to sneak into their conversations. She never heard the end of it with this "best friend".

_Haha! Is that so? It reminds me of Lovi-_

_Lovino used to-_

_Oh, there was this one time that Lovi-_

There was no doubt in her mind that this "best friend" was much more than a "best friend" to her Spanish tutor. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about him and the gleam in his smile when he mentioned his name, were all more than enough evidence to point out that he was madly obsessed, if not in love, with this guy Lovino. And that was extremely interesting to her. She would always listen intently whenever he talked about Lovino, constantly trying to piece together why this person had such a big impact on her tutor.

But she couldn't ever figure it out. And he wouldn't give her a straight-forward answer if she asked. Which she did.

_ Why is Lovino so important to you?_

With a sad smile, he replied,

_When you meet someone who changes your life like he did to mine, you'll understand. _

…..

It's another lonely night for Lovino in the apartment all by himself. At least the television could entertain him.

Lovino flips through the channels, and leaves it on at a soap Toris would usually watch. Lovino watched it with him sometimes on the rare night, but it was boring and stupid as fuck, as it always was, like right now.

He turns his head away, just feeling comfort from hearing the sounds of the television, since it makes him feel… less lonely.

It was a common occurrence that Lovino spends the night glooming in front of the television in an empty apartment. Toris was very busy and serious with his job, and more often than not, his meetings ran late or he worked overtime. However, tonight Lovino was left alone for a different reason.

Tonight was an extra special occasion.

After more than two years of chasing and failing, Toris finally, finally got a date with Natalya. It was a momentous point in Toris' life. He described it as braving the cold winter storms and finally reaching the top of Mount Everest.

Lovino described it as a bear trapper succeeding at long last to catch the meanest, nastiest bear and hoping to get a fluffy hug from it.

He sighs and slides deeper into the couch. He turns his head and glances at the phone.

They haven't talked in a long, long time. He was busy, Lovino was busy, or they were both… just not talking anymore.

It was incredible how such a thing as distance could change a situation so much, or at least not as much as Lovino had initially expected.

They wrote letters and had calls at first, but like a degrading memory, it all began to fade as the months passed. It's not like he didn't want to talk. It's not like he didn't miss him.

So why had they stopped trying to contact each other?

Lovino sits up and stares intently at the phone.

Well, why not find out?

….

"Oh! Is that the phone?" Antonio quickly whips his head up at the sound of the telephone's cheery ring ring ring.

He gets up from the desk and hastily shuffles out of the room while calling back to her, "I'll be right back!"

She watches his back until he is out of sight, and she lets out a quiet breath and rests her chin on her hands. Antonio always took forever talking on the phone, regardless of who it was, even if it was with someone who dialed the wrong number. He was just the type to linger on phone calls, never wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

She knows it will be long wait, and just before she is about to slip into a daydream, her eyes fall on something lying on the desk, just inches from her reach.

….

"Hello?"

"Hey… Lovino?"

"Toris?"

"Yeah, it's me."

It had surprised Lovino when the phone began ringing in his hands just as he was about to dial.

"Oh, hey. Uh… how'd the date go?"

"It went okay. Well, good. Good."

"Good, huh? That's great!"

Toris hmmms back and they both fall silent. Lovino wonders what the call is for. Maybe he's getting lucky tonight and he's calling to tell him he doesn't have to expect him back home tonight.

"So, uh, are you coming home tonight?"

"Huh? Yes. Oh, uh …"

"What?"

Is he going to _bring her over?_ Hell no, please please please.

"Err… uh … I was wondering if you could come pick me up?"

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

…

"Where are you right now?"

…

"The hospital."

….

Antonio eventually slips back into the room and she instantly sits up a little, watching him sit back down in his seat.

"Haha, just good old Gilbert calling," he says absentmindedly, but really, she knows he means "It wasn't Lovino again."

The rest of the Spanish lesson goes uninterrupted, finally coming to an end at 5:00 pm.

"Alright! So that's it for today. Good work!"

He happily rattles on some more, saying "Don't forget the homework!" and "See you next week!" but as she distractedly packs her Spanish books into her burgundy messenger bag, her mind is someplace else, so faraway that she is unable to hear any of it.

….

"Shit!" he mutters to himself, as he aggressively parks his car in the hospital parking lot like the Italian driving prodigy he is.

What the hell did Toris get into now?

Lovino feels a mixture of both anger and worry and fear bubbling inside him – angry for his roommate getting himself into this mess, fearful that something serious really happened.

He bursts through the automatic sliding front doors and spots Toris straight away, sitting in the waiting area.

_Shit shit shit,_ he mumbles as he quickly strides over.

"TORIS!"

Toris turns his head toward Lovino.

"Lovino!" he says, relieved, and gets up to greet him.

"Sit that ass down!" Lovino barks, and Toris promptly obeys.

Lovino scans him from head to toe. _Okay, his head is intact. Face is alright. Both arms. Both legs. _

But there is a small finger cast on his right hand.

"What happened?"

"Oh, uh – "

"Did she do this to you?!"

"Uh – "

"That goddamn bitch!"

"No, Lovino – "

"What ?!"

"It's just my own fault – we were just holding hands, and my fingers just … uh….cramped up and snapped?"

"What the fuck?"

"Really."

Lovino grinds his teeth together. He feels rage simmering up to a boil inside him.

"This relationship is seriously hurting you."

"No, it's not."

"You got a fucking broken finger! Don't you deny it! Try and tell me that it's not hurting you."

"I'm fine. I'm going through this because this is what I want – "

"You want this? You'll keep running into this relationship even if it kills you?! Are you insane? You know it's unhealthy for you but you still do it!"

"I-"

As if a switch had been flicked on, Lovino suddenly and uncontrollably lets it all out.

"Why? You know why? I'll tell you why. Because you're desperately in love. But guess what? Your feelings aren't returned! And they never will be! Face it! You and I both know it! Stop trying to fool yourself! After all these years – it's time you should just get a fucking clue – "

"Lovino – "

"-that this is completely one-sided! You're the only one that's trying! Why are you still doing this? Day after day, you're just getting hurt and hurt and hurt and yet you still hope and try even though you know they'll never love you back! Aren't you tired of this? Why do you still try to hold on –

"Lo-"

"-when clearly, clearly he has already moved on? I mean, what are you yourself even waiting for? As if waiting will change anything! You two will never happen! You were just not meant to be together! Can't you just accept that?! Just give up – "

"Wait – Lovino – what are –"

"-give up already! Why do you need to make this so fucking hard on yourself?! Why can't you just forget about that stupid bastard like he forgot about you – just –"

"Lovino!"

"What?!"

Lovino realizes he has been yelling at the top of his lungs. He quickly snaps out of it and sees a terribly frightened and perplexed Toris in front of him, and he immediately knows he's said more than he ever should have said – much, much more.

"A-are you okay?" Toris shakily asks.

"Huh?"

"You… you're crying."

…

Where is it?

He checks the floor. The chair. The desk. The floor again.

He is sure he left it on the desk. Or maybe he's just tired and not thinking clearly.

Antonio flops onto his bed, and rubs his face with his hands while letting out a deep exhale. Life has really done him in. The long, lengthy shifts at the local supermarket that lasted an entire clock hand's full circle wore him down like iron on a grindstone. And if that wasn't enough, his second job at a busy family restaurant working for tips put the nail in the coffin. And finally, when he didn't have a shift at either job, he squeezed in tutoring. Yet, even with all this, he was barely managing to stay afloat with the rent and the food and all the daily expenses. Well – this was the life he chose, wasn't it?

He couldn't have ever imagined it like this though. It was certainly much worse. Even if he didn't take into account the backbreaking work, it was much worse. Because he didn't get to see, let alone communicate with Lovino.

Why was that?

It was strangely cruel, wasn't it, that time had the power to bring two people together closer than anything, but at the same time, it had the capacity to rip them apart until they were strangers again.

It just seemed like they were growing apart; with each time they were on the phone, the conversations just felt more and more different – there was no other way to say it. Maybe Lovino had changed… and their friendship as well. Maybe they weren't as close as they were before. It was only natural, wasn't it? People, everything and everyone changes. And that gave Antonio severe sadness that pained him to the core of his bones.

In a last ditch-like effort, he had scribbled out a poorly written letter on a whim, last week, or was it last night? He couldn't remember. Sleepiness was definitely taking its toll on him. It was a letter containing all the stupid things he had on his mind that he wrote down before he changed his mind, a letter powered by impulse and dying brain cells. He knows he wouldn't be able to recreate this letter again even if he tried. For one thing, it took an incredible amount of effort that he could probably no longer muster anymore, and secondly, he couldn't remember half the things he put on it. And now he couldn't find it.

Life just loved playing tricks on him.

But by now, he wouldn't be surprised if he had actually sent the drunken excuse of a letter and forgot he even did so. Yes. Maybe he did send it. After writing that awkward mess of words, he had put it in the mailbox on his way rushing to work. Yeah, that's probably what happened. He just forgot that he did it. As his eyes slowly close and give in to much-needed sleep, he settles and convinces himself that he has already sent the letter – because where else would it be if he couldn't find it - and it was on its way to Lovino now.

All that was left was to wait patiently for his reply.

…..

_Dear Lovino,_

_Hey! It's been a long time since I wrote you a letter! I'm sorry, but you know I'm no good with this. My letters will never be as funny as yours! Which reminds me, I haven't read one of yours in a while._

_You must be awfully busy – are you still working at that curry restaurant? I am super busy, too, so sorry that I haven't been contacting you. We probably both don't have time to write letters, but phoning each other would be okay, wouldn't it? I actually miss talking with you a lot, and I wish we could talk again like we use to. It's really strange not talking to you. Or maybe, strange isn't the word. It's more like depressing. Oh, sorry for sounding really sad. Since we used to always talk, you know, and it was just something that we always did and it always made me feel better. I really hope I can hear from you again, Lovino. I don't know why we're not talking anymore. I guess it's because we're both really occupied with our lives right now? But even so, I would love to talk to you again as often as we used to, because no matter how I felt, talking with you always helped. Not only that, if anything's ever bothering you, you can always talk to me about it. I'll try my best to cheer you up. Because I want you to be happy. Hmm I don't really know what I'm saying. I'm really bad at writing letters, or communicating in general. Or maybe I'm just really exhausted? I don't know. Ah, sorry for rambling on again. It's just that I want to say you mean a lot to me, Lovino, and you're my best friend. Well, really, you mean a lot more to me than my best friend. And I hope you feel the same way as well. So if anything, I just really want to have you beside me again, or talk to you at the very least. _

_So despite everything, I really hope you'll call me when you have the time! Oh, and I nearly forgot, this is important: my telephone number has changed, it's 1-284-624-0002 now, so call this number now. I should be letting you know over the phone, but the last time I called, you weren't home, so I left you a voice message. So you can seriously call me any time now that you have the number. Just whenever. _

_So please call me._

_I miss you a lot._

_Antonio_

She folds the letter carefully and replaces it back into her burgundy bag. Her eyes gaze out at the flashing scenery outside the train window, and even after contemplating for the entire train ride home about that immensely compelling letter, she still couldn't understand.

* * *

**Translations:**

el papel - paper

los papeles – papers


End file.
